


Once in A Lullaby

by AllTheseLittleWritings



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Babies, Blowjobs, Children, Coming Out, Crying, Cuddling, Cute, Drinking, Drug Use, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Engagement, Family, Fighting, Fluff, Friendship, Future, Gay Sex, Kissing, London, Love, M/M, Magic, Marriage, Memories, Mention of Death, Mile High Club, Miracles, Partying, Recreational Drug Use, Relationship Issues, Soulmates, Stag Night, Touring, True Love, closeting, happiness, us against the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-09 01:33:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 48,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5520437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheseLittleWritings/pseuds/AllTheseLittleWritings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <cite>“Oops! I’m so, so sorry!” The young boy apologizes, his hands freezing, his face turning into a grimace. Louis’ round eyes meet those already staring at him. Green. That’s the colour of his eyes. </cite>
</p><p>
  <cite>“Hi,” Louis smiles, his lips turning in to a wide grin.</cite>
</p><p>
  <cite>“Hi,” the other boy smiles back, deep dimples forming on his cheeks.</cite>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [itsdreamwriting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsdreamwriting/gifts).



> Hi! This fic started last summer, when I wrote the series "[You Wish You Could Paint Our Love](https://archiveofourown.org/series/285141)". Since then, I had the idea of writing more to the story, so here it is! 
> 
> Also, this fic is a Christmas present for my dear friend, who has always been my beta and support in writing and life. Merry Christmas my lovely friend, who you can find here as itsdreamwriting or on tumblr: [letmepaintmyownrainbows](http://letmepaintmyownrainbows.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> My lovely guest beta has been a saviour! Thank you Maddie <3 (you can find her Tumblr here)

“I'll make this feel like home”

A deep breath. Louis can feel his lungs push out the air as he sings. He fills his chest, taking air in, his bones rattling with the adrenaline, his mind forcing his body to take controlled breaths. 

The audience screams like a wave of water crashing to sharp rocks. He looks out, seeing the tens of thousands of people holding up their signs, their phones or things that shine light. Louis looks to his left, seeing his other three bandmates enjoying the same feeling as him. Louis catches Harry crouching by the edge of the stage, his brown boots the only colourful thing in his black attire tonight. He sweeps his hair from his forehead, the strands flying from his temple. 

 

Harry is wildly gesturing with his hands to a fan, maybe making faces or trying to tell them something. Louis bites his lips together, turning his eyes back towards the fans in front of him. A blond boy catches his eye. He’s standing next to another boy with ginger hair, who is holding up a camera. They are wearing white shirts with some writing on the front. The boy is cheering and Louis can distinguish clear tear streaks on his cheeks. 

The boy stops as he realizes that Louis is looking at him. His face freezes, his eyes wide, while his other hand starts to tap his friend’s shoulder vigorously. He tells the red headed boy something, the boy nodding and holding up the camera with shaky hands. 

The blond smiles and leans down. Louis smiles back, his eyes wondering away. He sees the fans as a blur, not seeing any faces. The only things he can see are the lights and the signs and some people’s hair. But nothing more. His eyes never fixate on any detail.

 

Louis waves to some fans, making them scream through their sing along. He looks back to his band, Niall at his side. Niall turns a bit towards Louis, raising his brows and smiling warmly. Louis peeks his tongue past his teeth, knowing that he has to open his mouth to sing. Another breath in, out, in.

“Still high with a little feeling, I see the smile as it starts to creep in, it was there, I saw it in your eyes.”

The crowd bursts in to screams as he sings. The wave hits the rocks, hits his insides, his heart, so hard that it makes him smile. The smile catches his voice, the lines he sings coated with happiness. The song that is so dear to him has become his favorite song to sing on stage. He remembers the time he wrote it with Liam. It was after a teary phone call with Harry. 

 

*  
“I want to come home.” Harry sniffles through the line. 

“I know that you do. But they want you to stay in LA and me to be here. I promise that it’s not going to be long until we’re together again. But we can’t risk it now.” Louis is sitting in a garden on a table, some chairs around him. His laptop is on his thighs, pictures of nautical themed tattoos splattered across the screen. 

“I know.” Harry sighed. 

Louis is in the middle of his own promo. Their management wants to make Louis more visible, to make him his own person, not just ‘Louis from One Direction’. He has been going out to events and he has been seen with his friends. At the same time Harry is far away, watching the things Louis has to do alone. Harry has to stay incognito so the papers don’t pick up his whereabouts and make the stories about Louis worthless. 

Louis has always been grateful for Harry’s publicity; he was the golden boy. Louis has always been good in the background; he never wanted to be something bigger than the band. 

But now, as he and Harry are trying to suggest things like talking on stage to the management, their individual publicity is being pushed. And eventually, when they come out, it will be Harry and Louis, not just Harry and his band mate. Just another way to cash in, but at least it involves freedom. 

Louis has been looking at ideas for a lighthouse tattoo, examining various designs. 

“Harry, just a little while longer. You know I’d want you to be here. You know I love you. Not long and we get to be together again,” Louis says, his eyes falling shut. He imagines himself with Harry, holding Harry in his arms. 

“I love you,” Harry only says, his tone quiet. 

“Love, I have to go, we’re writing songs with Liam.” Louis tries to smile, but doesn’t succeed. 

“Write well, I’ll talk to you later.” 

“Love you.” 

“Love you.” Harry’s voice breaks with a shade of smile before they hang up. 

Liam walks over to Louis, sitting on a chair in front of him. 

“Was that Harry?” he asks. 

“Yep.” Louis scrolls through the tattoo ideas, saving the ones that look nice. 

“How was he?”

“Sad.” Louis sighs and stares at a picture of a lighthouse. I’ll be your light…

“Let’s write.” Louis says, his brain blooming with lines for a new song.  
*

 

The audience sings the lyrics back to Louis. He finishes, Harry starting his part. Louis swallows, closing his eyes and mouthing the words. The first time he had played the song for Harry, it had felt like their song. It wasn’t the first time Louis had written a song for Harry, but this one was special. 

It was about them, how they had tried to fit in to some norm but had realized that the love was already there in the eyes of a best friend. 

 

Louis opens his eyes, blue irises fixating on the two boys in the front row. The blond is holding up a bundle of something, maybe clothing. He is waving at Louis, desperately trying to get his attention. His eyes shine as tears pool at in the corners. Louis nods at him, waving back with a smile. The boy waves the bundle in his hand so wildly that it starts to unravel. Louis touches his chest, raising his brows in question: “For me?”

The blond nods, smiling wide. He points towards the other end of the stage, towards Harry. Louis’ eyes flit to the periphery, seeing Harry singing with his eyes closed. Soon it’s time for the last chorus. Louis knows that accepting a gift from someone, who is giving something to both him and Harry, is going to cause a hassle. It’s going to be a thing. Louis swallows, taking in a breath just in time to start singing the last few lines of the song. 

He belts them out loud and clear, his eyes falling on the blond who is clearly starting to lose his hope. His hand is falling, the waving of the bundle slow and unsure. He looks like he is losing his faith in humanity. Louis tries to find his security man, the few last notes of Home telling him to sing. 

“I'll make this feel like home.” His mouth voices. The lights start to dim, Louis’ catching his bodyguard’s attention when he is walking just in front of Louis. Louis whistles to him, points towards the blond with a swift motion before the lights go out to give the band time to move to the main stage. Louis knows his bodyguard will take the bundle and Louis will see what it is after the concert. But in a way he is nervous because it’s for Harry too. 

 

\- - 

 

Louis sees the blond a few times after his bodyguard has taken the bundle from him. Louis smiles and waves at the boy and his friend, whose hands are still holding the camera up. The blond mouths thank you over and over again, Louis’ eyes crinkling with a smile in return. 

He speaks and banters with Liam and Niall, consciously omitting Harry from his words. It pains Louis to see him as the outsider, when Louis would like to ask him to tell the crowd one of his worst jokes, or to ask how he feels about the audience. He wants to hear Harry make the fans scream, he wants to make the fans scream just because he would be talking with Harry. But he can’t, it’s against the rules. 

So there Harry stands. All by himself as Louis entertains the audience by throwing water at Liam or calling Niall his favorite Irish man. Harry interacts with the fans though, which is always great, but he is still alone. Louis catches Harry walking alone on the catwalk towards the group of three. Harry hangs his head low, tousling the curls and sweeping them to a deep side part. 

His steady eyes lift up to look at the group, the green glinting in the stage lights. Louis doesn’t turn his gaze away but lets his eyes roam Harry’s body, seeing the lean muscular legs and the narrow hips and the curve of his waist and the roundness of his shoulders. Seeing his fiancé walking towards him, but not talking to him, makes Louis go mental. He has to ground himself, bring himself back into the conversation that is going on around him. 

 

The concert goes on, songs passing by with talking and screaming. It’s like a blink of an eye – Louis walks on the stage, closes his eyes for a moment and then he is already running backstage with the others. The screams die out into a mumbling sea of fans making their way out of the venue. Louis’ heart drums with steady, rushed beats as he disappears behind the curtains. 

Harry is waiting, his hand reached out for Louis to take hold of. They smile to each other as a hello, jogging towards the black cars waiting for the band to take them to the hotel. Niall yells after them, cackling and waving like he’s drunk. Maybe he is, from the adrenaline. 

Liam tells them good night just in time before Louis closes the car door after himself. Harry has already crawled onto the back seat, peeling his shirt off his sweaty torso. Another black t-shirt is waiting for him in the car, ready to be changed into.

 

“I missed you,” Louis says, his voice drawling out from his lazy lips. He leans into his seat, his thigh firmly against Harry’s leg, his hand roaming the inside of Harry’s thigh. 

“I missed you more.” Harry turns his head to Louis, smiling with his eyes half shut. Louis can see the boyish grin and the sparkle in his eyes, which have become shaded with the adult life Harry has to live. It’s only for Louis and sometimes for the other boys. But mainly for Louis.

The adrenaline starts to erupt in their nervous systems, making everything extremely tiring. Harry closes his eyes, his breathing slowing. Louis leans his head on Harry’s shoulder, letting the relaxing feeling of being close to his love take over his body.

 

Usually they are very pumped after a show. Usually the tiredness doesn’t take over this easily but now it has a reason. 

They couldn’t sleep the night before. So they took advantage of that and spent the time watching a movie which turned out into love making and cuddling and take out and more love making and more cuddling and drifting to sleep but waking up soon after. And then it was already six in the morning, leaving them only a couple of hours to actually sleep. 

Tonight it’s going to be easy to fall asleep, that’s for sure. Last night was just something that they both needed in the middle of the last days of the tour. 

 

The radio is on, music flowing inside the car. It bounces between him and Harry and the front of the car where the driver and Harry’s bodyguard, Dale, are sitting. The driver tries not to look back. He has his serious eyes towards the road ahead, but at some points, like in red lights, he might glance back. 

From the rear view mirror he sees Louis with his head on Harry’s shoulder, Harry’s lips touching Louis’ forehead. Harry’s arm is over Louis’ shoulder, Louis holding his fingers loosely. The lights turn yellow, then green, and the driver turns his eyes away to look at the road towards the hotel. Dale is just going through his phone, already used to the cuddles going on in the backseat. 

Louis hears the radio breaking, his body drifting in and out of sleep. The music mixes with the hum inside the car, his eyes squeezing more tightly shut. The warm sleep takes over in a moment, making him unconscious of his surroundings. He still feels Harry’s arm over his shoulder, Harry’s slow breathing against Louis’ forehead in his sleep. 

At the same time the black behind his eyes turns to colors, vivid short dreams that he can’t get any hold of. He sees people, thinks about them, maybe even says something to them. But he can’t remember any of the things that happened, who he saw, what he said. He can only remember the feeling he had while he was with the people. 

 

“Louis?” He hears whispered against the shell of his ear. With one long breath, he opens his eyes to Harry’s lazy smile, his eyes half shut. 

“We’re at the hotel?” His voice is off, like he’s been screaming at the concert himself, to the performing Louis. Or maybe Harry, maybe he was cheering for Harry in his sleep. At least he feels light; he was with the person he loves. 

Harry nods, taking Louis’ hand in his. They wait in the car for Dale to come and open the door for them. It’s a back entrance, Liam and Niall’s cars are already there. Louis peeks from the window to see Liam’s back ascending into the hotel. He closes his eyes after Liam has disappeared and leans his head to Harry’s chest. He listens to the calm hum of Harry’s breathing, his heart taking slow beats. 

Dale opens the door, Harry shaking Louis from his light sleep and dragging Louis after him with long strides of his feet. Louis feels like he’s sleepwalking, only feeling Harry’s hand taking him forward. He only sees the corridors and doors and carpet, a deep red carpet, under his feet. It all feels wonky, like he’s floating. 

 

They stand in a lift. Harry tries to keep Louis upright, stroking his side while still holding Louis’ other hand. He squeezes it, demanding Louis to answer him. With a tired grip, Louis squeezes Harry’s hand back, still leaning to Harry’s shoulder like it’s the world’s most comfortable pillow. Harry squeezes Louis’ side, making him squirm and open his eyes.

As he looks up, Harry looks alert, the green of his eyes bright as if he’s already slept the amount he needs to. Harry smiles, kissing Louis’ forehead. 

“Louis,” Dale turns towards the couple, hands holding a paper bag. Louis raises his brows at him, trying to rid the sleep from his eyes. 

“Alberto wanted me to give you this.” Dale smiles and gives the bag to Louis. 

It rustles, the warm noise bringing Louis memories from his childhood as he would help his mom put the groceries from paper bags to their right places. The elevator dings, the doors opening to a hallway with more doors. The floor is quiet, as it’s only for the band and the team. 

“Thank you.” Louis raises the bag a little, stepping out with Harry, Dale following closely. They move in front of their room door, Dale getting out the keycard. He swipes it, the system beeping once, a light turning green. He lets Harry and Louis step inside, wishing them a good night before closing the door after them. 

 

“What’s in the bag?” Harry inquires as he kicks his boots off. One lands next to the door, the other a bit further away. 

Louis looks inside to see two white bundles of fabric. He reaches to take one in his hand, seeing his name written on a tag. Louis drops the paper bag on the white, soft sofa. He opens the bundle, his mind too drunk from sleep that he can’t remember what these bundles are. 

The fabric rolls open, revealing a t-shirt with a scooped neckline. He smiles at the shirt, Harry walking closer.

“What is it?” 

Louis turns the shirt to Harry, pressing the fabric against his shoulders. 

“Always in my heart, yours sincerely.” Harry reads out loud, a smile spreading to his lips. 

“Who gave it to you?” 

“Uhh, I guess it was from a fan. I’m pretty sure these are from a fan.” Louis nods, turning the shirt back to his eyes to see the design of the text. It’s printed on to the white of the fabric, the black letters standing out. 

“These? There’s more?” 

“The other is for you.” Louis folds the shirt with careful hands and lays it on the sofa. 

He picks up the bundle that’s left in the paper bag and hands it to Harry. He takes it with light hands, looking at the tag and then opening the shirt to see the print. He smiles, turning it towards Louis. The shirt has a small v-neck with the words “Yes, of course, always” printed on the front under each other. 

“Gotta love these fans,” Louis sighs, Harry folding his shirt and placing it on top of Louis’. 

 

“You ready to go to bed?” Harry has lost all the energy he had while they were walking into their hotel room. Louis only nods, walking to his side and curling around him. 

They get into the master bedroom of the hotel room. Actually you can’t even say it’s a room, it’s more like a flat. The en-suite calls for both of them, the shower looking extremely tempting. With no questions, both undress and get under the hot water, which Harry turns on. 

Being so tired makes everything really slow, Louis feeling like he would be able to fall asleep under the stream. But before he knows it, Harry is drying him up with a towel. Louis waits for him to be ready before he starts to brush his teeth. 

“Tonight I want to sleep,” Harry announces, drying his back with the same white towel that he used on Louis. 

“Even if I wanted to, I’m too tired.” Louis brushes his teeth trying to be quick. The toothpaste starts to drip out of his mouth. 

Louis stares at himself in the mirror, Harry standing next to him to brush his own teeth. The golden necklace catches Louis’ attention, like it’s the first time he sees it. But it’s not. Louis gave it to Harry as a gift. 

“What are you looking at?” Harry smiles with the toothpaste from his mouth trying to make a white river from the corner of his mouth to his chin. 

“Just how well that suits you,” Louis sighs, spitting out the toothpaste. He washes the toothbrush, setting it in a cup by the basin. He turns to Harry, his hand touching the pearl and the ring on the necklace. 

“I can’t wait for the day when I get to put this on your hand and keep it there.” Louis picks the two ornaments from Harry’s chest, placing a kiss on the ring. As if it were yesterday, Louis can remember how Harry had accepted his proposal. It’s still one of the best days of his life. 

“And I can’t wait for you to get a ring too. It’s kind of lonely carrying this.” Harry pouts his lips, pulling the toothbrush out. Louis moves aside to give Harry space to spit in to the basin. He puts his toothbrush next to Louis’ in the cup. 

“Maybe we should go look for the rings soon, don’t you think?” Louis takes Harry’s hand in to his and leads them in to the bedroom. 

Harry switches the lights off from the bathroom, making everything dark. The curtains are closed, not a single ray of any kind of light getting in. Louis crashes onto the bed. He lets go of Harry’s hand and crawls under the soft, thick duvet. 

The sheets feel nice against his naked body after a long day. The bed is so comfortable that he could sleep in it forever. Harry sits on the bed, Louis opening the corner of the duvet for him to crawl under. Harry searches for Louis’ hand, draping it over his waist with the warmth of the sheets. He breathes deep, letting his muscles relax in Louis’ arms. 

“Mmhmm, I’d like that. But maybe after the last show next week? We still have enough time before January to plan everything.” His voice drawls out from his mouth like he’s heavily drugged. 

Louis is too tired to use his voice. He only nods against the back of Harry’s neck, tightening his hold around him. Louis’ arm reaches from under Harry’s arm to his front, his fingers finding the necklace. He keeps the ring and the pearl in his hand, pressing himself against Harry’s back. 

Marriage. That’s it. The ring will be something that will tie him and Harry together for the rest of their lives. Louis can’t wait for that part to start.


	2. Fall

“To the last show!” Liam raises his glass. He looks at Harry, then at Niall. His eyes land on the empty seat opposite from Harry’s, the seat where Louis was sitting before. Usually they eat with everyone from the crew, but this time they wanted to have a dinner by themselves. 

“Should we wait?” Liam raises his brows, sitting down. The glass in his hand hits the table, the water trying to reach over the edges. He makes a tiny “oops” sound and tries to stop the water from spilling with his hands as if he were a magician. 

“No, I think we can begin.” Harry eyes the plate before Louis’ seat. The steaming food turns colder by the second. When Louis left with someone from management, leaving the band behind, Harry knew that something was up. Something has been up since last week. Harry’s hand travels up to his chest, his palm feeling the pearl and the ring under his black shirt. 

“Let’s eat!” Niall encourages. Harry sees Niall smiling, giving him a soft look, trying to reassure Harry that nothing’s wrong. And he could be right, Niall usually is. Maybe it’s just some business deal or something. Harry nods, giving him a tight smile. He takes the knife and fork into his hands, cutting a piece of marinated courgette. 

 

“Doesn’t it feel weird? We’ve been doing this for so long and now it’s ending. We can finally sleep for a bit before going back to the studio!” Liam enthuses with his mouth full of chicken. Both Niall and Harry nod, cutting pieces of food on their plates. 

“And think that you and Louis can get married now when we don’t have to be in different places every night.” Liam pokes his elbow to Harry’s side. He smiles that teddy bear smile, his brown eyes twinkling in the lights of their backstage dining room. 

Harry stuffs his mouth full, trying to eat and not think about Louis, wanting to give Liam and Niall his full attention. But the Louis part is taking his whole brain capacity. 

 

Just as Harry is in the middle of listening to Niall talk about what he’s going to say on the stage, Louis walks back in with heavy feet. He has his head bowed, his fringe flopped to cover his features. Harry stares at him all the way from the door to his place next to Niall. 

“Is everything okay?” Harry asks, trying to keep his voice even. Something is definitely up. 

“I... Can I talk with you after we’ve eaten? I’m starving.” He looks up, his eyes bloodshot. He swallows thickly, trying to muster up a smile for his fiancé. 

“Yeah, okay, let’s eat.” Harry smiles back, the uneasy feeling in his stomach spreading to his muscles and bones and into his head. 

“Did you toast already?” Louis asks the group. Liam gives him the same exact speech he told Harry and Niall, but focusing only on Louis. He tilts his head at times, his blue eyes smiling back at Liam’s words. He takes a sip of his water before starting to eat his cold food. 

Harry drags his foot between Louis’ feet, his sock covered toes massaging Louis’ ankle. He looks at Louis from under his brows, getting back a flaming blue gaze and a lick of the lips. 

 

The four piece finish up their pre-show dinner, cleaning the table after themselves. The last show is still a good three hours away and they have the time to themselves. Harry wraps Louis in his arms from behind, holding his head against Louis’ shoulder. He sways them forward as they make their way in to the dressing rooms. 

“Do you mind if I play some guitar?” Niall asks, before he disappears into the room next to the couple. Liam is chatting with his security guy about getting some champagne to his house for the after party. Niall is going for certain, but now Harry isn’t so sure if he and Louis should go. Something is clearly bothering Louis, so maybe he’d like to have a quiet night in their own home.

“No problem, play some good tunes!” Louis laughs as Harry walks them forward and almost stumbles over Louis’ feet. The laugh catches Niall, laughter vibrating in the corridor. Louis waves him goodbye before Harry guides them in to the room next to Niall’s. 

 

\- -

 

Louis has his hands over Harry’s arms, holding tight. He knows that there is going to be a shit storm coming his way and he wants everything to end already. All the plans their management have been running behind their backs, he wants to end them all. But he can’t, and it makes his head ache, his stomach feel uneasy and his feet heavy.

He knows that Harry has fallen asleep by the slow drags of breath against the back of his neck. 

“I love you Harry,” Louis whispers, feeling his chest tightening. 

 

\- -

 

“Should I wear this...” Harry holds up a black shirt on a hanger, small stars covering the fabric here and there,

“Or this?” He holds the other shirt next to the first one, the black silk velvety in the dim lights. Harry’s curls fall on his face as he looks down at the shirts. Louis sits on the couch, his head trying to stay in this moment, but his thoughts keep tumbling to the things he knows are going to go down in two days time. 

“Uhhh, the silk one.” Louis points and smiles. 

“You read my thoughts,” Harry smiles dashingly, the other shirt finding its place on the clothing rack. He wears the shirt over his bare torso, his love handles making Louis want to run to Harry and just hold him in place while he kisses down Harry’s abs. 

Harry fastens the buttons, his fingers slow and careful. 

“Can I rip that shirt off you later?” Louis asks, his voice strained like he hasn’t breathed in a while. Harry looks up, his smirk all but innocent. 

“I’d kind of hoped you would.” He lifts his left brow, biting his lip between his teeth. Harry knows he has succeeded in making Louis want it a thousand times more from the blush that creeps onto his cheeks. 

“You cheeky bastard,” Louis groans. Harry walks over to him and sits on his lap, his legs on either side of Louis’ hips. 

“I know,” Harry whispers in Louis’ ear, biting his earlobe gently. Louis’ hands travel to Harry’s hips, squeezing the softness. 

 

Knock, knock, knock.

Harry’s eyes fly towards the door, his hands hugging Louis against his body. 

“Ten minutes till the meet and greets!” Dale says on the other side, his steps leaving. Harry turns his face back to Louis’ neck. Louis can feel Harry’s eyes opening and closing against his skin, Harry’s lashes like wings of a butterfly. Louis strokes Harry’s back, his eyes falling shut against Harry’s shoulder. 

“We should get going before we take another nap.” Harry says quietly, his face coming into Louis’ view. His smile is lazy, his expression relaxed. Louis nods, pecking his cheeks. 

“Let’s go and make some fans happy,” Louis smiles, Harry kissing him before they have to be just distant friends. 

 

\- -

 

“Don’t cry,” Harry smiles into the crook of a twenty something girl’s neck. Her light sniffles are muffled by his shoulder, her hands light on his back. 

“Thank you for being who you are,” she whispers through her tears, her head bending down as they let the embrace die down. 

“Thank you for being there for us.” Harry’s smile is soft and full of comfort. Her blotchy cheeks glisten by her salty tears, her red hair almost the same shade. 

“I like your bracelet,” Harry tells her, making her look down at her arm. The rainbow coloured band is bright against her light complexion. She raises her green eyes to meet Harry’s, her breath hitching in her throat. 

“Thank you,” she says with her tiny voice, a light accent coming through the words. 

 

“Okay, let’s take a picture!” The photographer says loudly, everyone gathering into a line. Harry drapes his hands over the red headed girl’s shoulders, his other arm over her friend’s shoulder. Harry gives Louis a look, a small nod towards the crying fan. Louis smiles down to her. 

“You alright love?” His voice is soft, almost like a blanket on a cold night. Louis gets only a whimper in response. He smiles and takes her hand in his. Louis’ hip is against the young woman’s. 

She tries to smile through her tears, she tries to be strong in the moment when her heart is about to boom out of her chest. 

 

The camera flashes a few times before the man behind it steps aside. 

“Just a couple of minutes before the next fans,” a man from their team informs. 

“It was great seeing you two,” Liam cheers, his smile making the brunette one smile. 

“We are so thankful to meet you. Thank you for everything.” The red head gathers herself, managing to smile. She’s holding her friends hand. Harry sees how they are holding on tight to each other, their hands almost shaking. 

“No, it’s all because of you,” Niall says proudly, walking to the girls and hugging them at the same time. The others see it as an opportunity to make a ridiculous wave of happy laughter, attacking the three and making it in to a group hug. They huddle for a moment, laughing. Harry can see both of the fans crying now, even though the other had been so brave. Until now. 

“Hope you enjoy the concert,” Harry says to the brunette, as she nods her head eagerly. 

 

The door opens, a bunch of people walking in with their high heels. Harry is the first one to see them, his arms releasing from the group hug first. 

Some assistant comes and takes the two fans away. The red headed young woman gives a smile and a small wave to Louis, as he smiles and waves back. Harry watches warmly at the interaction, his feet already carrying him towards the next two fans. 

 

“Hello!” Harry opens his arms, the women looking at him a bit oddly. 

“Hi,” the blonde one says, hugging Harry awkwardly. 

“You can follow me here,” Pete from their management team tells the young women. He leads them behind the camera to sit on some chairs in the back of the room. Harry looks at them, his brows scrunched. 

He looks back at the rest of the guys, seeing all colour from Louis’ face faded away. Harry walks to the others, his eyes looking closely at Louis. 

 

“You okay?” He asks quietly, his back towards their team and the girls. 

“I really should’ve told you,” Louis whispers, his mouth literally turned upside down. 

“Told us what?” Niall asks, his concern clear in his voice. 

“Uhhh...” Louis is about to start when the door swings open again, letting in a couple of young men. 

 

They stop in their tracks, their eyes bulging as they see the band. 

“Hi!” The one says, his smile splitting his face. 

“Hi!” Niall and Harry say at the same time, walking to the boys to greet them. Harry looks back at Louis, his smile trying to be happy and nonchalant. But he is failing. 

 

“What’s going on Louis?” Liam whispers, his hand on Louis’ elbow. 

“There was going to be a news story released in a couple of days but I think they’re releasing it tonight.” Louis swallows, his feet dragging against the floor.

“Something good?” Liam’s voice is enthusiastic even as he whispers. 

Louis only shakes his head, sharing the weight in his chest with Liam. He sees how Liam’s expression drops. Louis shakes his head to Liam, shutting him down before Liam can ask any more questions. 

Louis plasters on a fake smile for the two fans smiling wide, because this is one of the best moments of their lives. 

 

\- -

 

“Do you know what’s going on?” Harry whispers into Liam’s ear as they are taking their mics and starting to line up for the concert. Harry can already hear the fans screaming, knowing that the intro video will start soon. It’s dark out there, the screams echoing like the people outside were something much worse than a concert audience. 

“I really don’t, but I guess it can’t be something good.” Liam pats Harry’s back, stroking it a couple of times up and down. 

Harry eyes the floor, his shoulders tense. He knows that something is up, because Louis is missing again. He left with Pete and the two women and hasn’t been seen since. 

“Where’s Louis?” Niall takes his frisky usual steps to Harry and Liam, his in-ears hanging against his shoulders. 

“We don’t actual…” Liam starts but is cut off by Louis marching in, taking his mic and standing in front of the three. 

“What’s going on?” Harry tilts his head. His stomach is doing back flips, knowing very well what this is all about. But he doesn’t want to admit it. 

 

“Louis!” Gemma walks in, her eyes flaming, her chest heaving. 

“Gemma! What are you doing here?” Harry’s surprised expression warms Gemma’s thoughts, as she sees her brother. 

“One of my friends just called me and told me to check Twitter. You know what I found?” She eyes Louis, her hand reached forward, her phone on her palm. There’s a picture, a very clear picture of Louis. All three of the men lean forward to see what the fuss is about. 

Harry has his eyes on Louis, who is staring at the floor. Harry doesn’t want to see what the picture is, he knows there is some sort of a plan going on he has no idea of. But he also has to face the idiocy he knows will be all lies. 

And there it is. A picture. Of Louis. With the blonde woman whom Harry hugged thinking she was a fan. Louis has his arms draped around her from behind. She has her head turned towards him, her lips firmly on Louis’ cheek. Louis grins to the camera, his eyes lifeless. Harry knows this was a setup. Louis wouldn’t do this to him. Except he is doing this. He’s in another bearding contract. 

 

“That’s the girl from the...” Niall lifts his eyes to Louis, his eyes shocked, his mouth hanging open. 

“From the meet and greet, yeah I know. Harry, listen, I’m only doing this to protect you,” Louis steps forward, his eyes pleading Harry to look at him. But Harry is facing the stage, his ears dimming out all the voices and screams. His head is trying to stay on the surface, he is trying to float above this. He knows what it’s like, he knows. 

“Harry, please, listen to me.” Louis grabs his arm, turning Harry around. The coldness in Harry’s eyes is astounding. He has so rarely seen it. 

“I’m just trying to protect you so that you wouldn’t have to go through another stunt this winter. Please say something,” Louis’ breathes through his mouth, his hand shaking against Harry’s arm. 

“I can’t deal with this now,” Harry says quietly, his words filled with disgust. 

“No, we have to!” Louis regrets raising his voice. He has to be patient now. 

“We have to, yes, Louis! What the fuck! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me about this before! You already knew about this, didn’t you? And don’t you fucking dare talk to me about protecting me! We are getting married, Louis! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me about this!?” Harry’s voice breaks, bitter tears streaming from his eyes. 

“Because they wanted you to do this! I did this so you wouldn’t have to!” Louis feels his own tears surfacing, his breathing so shallow that his feet feel light. His whole body feels light. The only thing he can do is stare into Harry’s angry eyes, knowing that he isn’t going to forgive Louis that easily. He knows it. 

 

“Just, let’s figure this out, okay?” Louis suggests, his voice much softer. 

“Later.” Harry’s voice sounds heavy. Like he’s throwing daggers at Louis. But as Harry wants, they’ll deal with it later. Louis’ hand slides down Harry’s arm, his fingers trying to cradle Harry’s. But Harry pulls his hand away and crosses his arms in front of his chest. 

Louis feels the coldness spreading to his body. He turns around and faces Niall and Liam. They both look worried, ready to listen. It’s good they can take a more neutral approach to the whole thing. 

Then Louis sees Gemma standing there, her phone in her hand. She looks so disappointed. Louis feels like his own sister would be disappointed with him. Gemma is family. It’s no wonder he feels like this. 

 

“Should we umm, do our huddle before the show?” Niall asks with his wavering voice. 

“Hold on for a second.” Louis pushes past them, walking to Gemma. 

“I know that you want to protect him, but why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t you give him a heads up?“ Gemma’s hushed voice asks. She pockets her phone into her purse, her whole attention on Louis. 

“Because I thought I had more time. I didn’t know how to bring it up. ‘Oh, hey love, I have a new beard! Want to meet her?’,” Louis snaps at her. Gemma’s shoulders drop. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” he apologises. 

“I know you didn’t. But you have to talk with him, it’s not like he’s oblivious to what the situation has been. He has known all along but he was too afraid to even think about the possibility. Just explain to him everything, I mean everything, Louis. Just give him a little space,” Gemma assures him, giving Louis a light hug. He nods against her shoulder. 

“Now go and be the best actor you can be,” she tells Louis, her eyes dull. She hates to say those words. 

 

“You ready Lou?” Liam asks, his voice full of fake enthusiasm. Louis turns to him, seeing Harry facing the stairs that lead onto the stage, that lead to thousands of fans. 

Louis walks to Liam’s side and tries to give him a smile, a good response. But his dark mind wanders to Harry, who isn’t ready to go on stage. His slumped shoulders are like rock. 

“I really screwed this up,” Louis mutters under his breath. 

“Yeah, you did,” Liam agrees, giving him a supporting squeeze on his shoulder. 

“Let’s do this!” Niall tries to be the cheerleader, he tries it so hard. But even his half arsed smile falters and crumbles. 

This is their first show when they don’t do a huddle, and it brings a shadow on all of them. 

 

\- -

 

Like Louis knew he would, Harry doesn’t once look at him during the concert. He doesn’t come close to Louis, he doesn’t give him even a glance. Louis would take the angry glances too, he just wants Harry to do something to show that he wants to solve this. 

What Louis does see are the girls, Amber and Heather. Amber is the one who is supposed to be Louis’ new girlfriend for the next couple of months. That was the deal Louis was supposed to sign, so Harry wouldn’t need to have yet another ‘winter girlfriend’. 

But the thing is, Louis hasn’t even signed any papers yet, he hasn’t made any contract with the girl or management. But as soon as he saw Amber walking through the door earlier, he knew it was going to start with or without contracts. He knew he was going to get pulled in to this without his consent. And it all blew up in his hands. Now the “relationship” is all over social media. It’s all over the arena. It’s all over Harry. 

 

Louis ignores Heather and Amber and walks past them. He knows they will be photographed and fans will soon know who these people are. When he stands on the edge of the catwalk, interacting with eager fans, some look really confused. They are singing along, but Louis can see the confusion in their eyes. 

They have to be thinking “What is going on?” or “Why is this happening?”. Louis feels like he should explain himself somehow, make a sign to these fans. But he doesn’t know what to say, what to sign. And in the end it’s none of their business. 

 

The roar of the screams around the arena is overwhelming. Every time Louis opens his mouth to sing, he can hear the fans go silent to hear every sound Louis makes. Or they sing so loudly along, that Louis can’t even hear himself. 

But Louis is disappointed. It’s not only the bullshit he has to go through and give his all to these people. It’s also because he hears himself singing off key. He can hear how down his voice is, because he feels a lump in his throat. The lump wants to evolve into tears and spill over the edges. 

Whenever Louis hears Harry sing, he can hear the same lump in his throat. Harry is on the brink of breaking apart and he is barely holding on. Louis just wants to go over to him and hug him, never let go, make everything better. He wants to solve this. But he doesn’t know how. 

“Give him a little space,” Gemma’s words remind Louis. He has to give Harry space, he knows it. But at the same time he doesn’t want to give that space to Harry because they have to make it all better. 

 

“I'm missing half of me when we're apart. Now you know me. For your eyes only,” they sing, Louis pouring all his feelings into the song. He hears the others harmonising in his in-ears and he hears how Harry’s voice breaks in the middle of the last verse. 

Louis turns to him, Harry standing right next to him, but he is so far away. Harry is half turned towards the audience on their left, Louis can’t even see his face. 

“For your eyes only,” Harry sings alone, his voice weak, hanging on with just a thread before breaking apart. As soon as he has finished singing, he leaves the catwalk to go backstage. 

Niall starts to speak, as he sees Harry rushing away. It isn’t even anyone’s turn to speak, they should be singing. But here Niall is, saving the day and making the crowd cheer and scream some more. 

 

Louis follows Harry backstage, to make sure he’s alright. He rounds the corner off stage, but Harry is nowhere to be seen. 

“Harry?” Louis tries to call, but he doesn’t get an answer. Well, he knew he wouldn’t. Just as he is about to go back in front of the fans, he sees Harry, crouched in the corner, just barely hidden from the screaming fans. 

“Harry,” Louis sighs and kneels next to him. He puts his hand tentatively on Harry’s shoulder and stays there with him. He feels Harry’s light cries, his shoulders shuddering with his breathing that he is trying to calm. Harry’s shoulder is like steel under Louis’ hand; Harry had seemed to grow even stiffer after Louis had come to his side. 

“We’ll figure this out okay?” Louis tries to break the ice, he is trying so hard. 

Harry’s head snaps up, his red eyes burning Louis to the ground. He only shakes his head before he stands up, rids himself from Louis’ touch, wipes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

For a moment Louis watches him, facing his sentence. Harry doesn’t look back at Louis, but turns his back to Louis and walks onto the stage. His steps try to be light, he tries to be light. But he fails miserably. 

 

Louis stays to stare at the small pool of tears and sweat on the floor, where Harry was letting it all out. 

“The next song is ‘History’!” Niall announces to the audience. Louis knows it’s his cue, but he doesn’t really know how to use his legs. 

He listens to the first notes from backstage, knowing that people will be wondering where he is. Harry starts singing, his voice groggy with snot and tears, but he is concealing it well. Louis knows better. 

Louis stands up, blows his lungs empty from the heavy air and steps back onto the stage. He is faced with fans who scream in ecstasy. He waves at them, smiling with his lips tight. 

Harry is at the other end of the stage, holding his mic out towards the audience so that they sing for him. Louis tries to think that this is going to be fine, he will figure this out with Harry. But Harry is so far away that he doesn’t know how to reach Harry. Even though Harry should be there, he isn’t. And Louis knows it. He knows it because he is breaking Harry apart. He is making it hard for Harry to sing his parts. And when Harry turns around and his eyes land on Louis, they are full of rage. 

The love freezes over. That’s the only thought in Louis’ head as he bravely carries on pretending that everything is okay. 

 

\- -

 

“Where’s Harry?” Louis asks, as he runs off stage. 

“He already left with Dale. They’re going home,” Alberto tells him, as they run towards the waiting cars. 

“How did he even get here so fast?” Louis scrunches his brows. The adrenaline is pumping in his veins even harder now as he knows that Harry is going to be at home when Louis gets there. Good thing that they’re in London; they don’t have to stay in a hotel. 

“He was the first one here,” Alberto confirms, guiding Louis into one of the black cars. As soon as he gets in, Louis switches on his phone, his lungs trying to catch up with his irrational breathing. 

 

“He must be mad?” Alberto asks from the front. 

“Very much so,” Louis confirms to him. He is afraid to check his Twitter, but he does it anyway. Maybe he likes the pain. 

He checks the trends, hashtags for making Harry happy again reaching the top. He also sees the words winter beard, knowing it’s about him. His notifications are blowing up, fans fighting for what’s real and what’s not. He sees pictures of Harry from the concert and it breaks Louis’ heart to see how miserable he looks. His red eyes are swollen as new tears try to break through the sensitive surface. 

Pictures of Amber and Heather are here and there. Someone congratulates Louis for catching “such a fit bird”. The words make his blood boil. He clenches his teeth together, closing Twitter and turning his phone off. He doesn’t want to see any of that. He just wants to talk with Harry. 

 

“Hopefully everything will be alright,” Alberto says, as they get to Harry and Louis’ house. The lights are on, that’s a good sign. At least Harry is here. 

“I hope so, too. Goodnight Al,” Louis tells him, the nickname earning an annoyed twist of Alberto’s lips, but his eyes are filled with sympathy, his presence sincere. 

 

Louis gets inside. He hears music with heavy bass booming in the gym. He can hear Harry’s angry grunts as he hits the punching bag. He can even hear the chain clinking as it sways from the ceiling. Harry needs space to let the steam out and Louis will give him that space. 

He toes off his sneakers and walks around the house turning off some unnecessary lights. He walks into the living room, a pile of blankets and pillows stacked on the coffee table. A note lays on top of the soft stack, the letters written heavily against the paper. 

“Sleep on the couch. We’ll talk tomorrow.” 

 

Louis knew it was coming. He throws the decorative pillows on the floor and makes his bed on the couch. He can hear Harry hitting the punching bag nonstop. The music only seems to get louder, the bass shaking an empty vase on the table. 

Louis feels the adrenaline wearing off and being replaced with sadness. He is so disappointed in himself. He could’ve prevented this from happening by telling Harry. Or better yet, not even considering the stunt.

But here he is, sleepiness making a space in his head and in his body. He sits on the couch and stares at the wall. His mind is blank and full of thoughts at the same time. 

Finally he decides to take a quick shower. The music has quietened in the gym, it’s not so heavy with the bass anymore. Harry must be tired too; he’s stopped hitting the bag. 

 

Louis is quick in the shower, the water splashing against the walls in the small cubicle. He rarely uses the guest bathroom, but as he finds his toothbrush in there, he knows that he isn’t welcome in the main bathroom that is next to the master bedroom. 

He just wants to get to bed, on the couch, and maybe fall asleep. He is so tired. 

But the sleep never comes. On the contrary, it keeps him awake. His own tired self keeps him awake, listening to the sounds of the house he is sharing with the man he is breaking into pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be updating on Monday, on the 28th :)
> 
> Please leave a comment or kudos or come talk with me on Tumblr: [sing-about-being-free](http://sing-about-being-free.tumblr.com/) and  
> [AllTheseLittleWritings](http://alltheselittlewritings.tumblr.com/)


	3. Memories

The sleep never comes. As much as Louis squeezes his eyes shut, the sleep never comes. He lies in the dark, his arms and legs restless. He needs to do something, something that will take his mind off things. 

He throws off his duvet, his right foot swinging on to the floor. His toes touch the cool wooden surface, the soft skin of the tips of his toes like feathers against the dark brown warmth. For some reason Louis’ heart hammers in his chest, his mind knowing what he is doing, his heart saying no.

Louis knows he shouldn’t approach Harry, but he can’t get the nagging thought out of his head. Make it right, make it right, make it right. That is what his head tells him to do. And that means Louis has to go and wake Harry up and make it right. 

He knows Harry might not like to be woken; the tour had just ended and Harry can finally sleep without the constant travelling and time differences and jet lags, and also, he’s made it clear that he would much rather be alone right now. 

 

Louis is just about to sit up but his ears catch the lightest noise of door opening and closing. The gym. Harry never went to sleep! Louis’ skin catches fire, and his muscles turn shaky as he lies back down. He is just about to grab the corner of the duvet, but has no time. Harry is already there. 

He tiptoes into the living room. Louis closes his eyes and tries to breathe steadily. He squeezes his hands open and closed, not knowing which position would look most natural. Louis settles to keep them against his stomach, his fingers touching the light hairs under his navel. 

Louis can feel Harry’s eyes on him. He just knows. Harry’s eyes burn holes in to Louis’ skin. Louis can feel the burn all over his body. For some reason, as much as Louis’ head tries to tell him to make it right, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t make a sound, he doesn’t dare to make it better, not now. 

 

Harry walks closer and stands there, by Louis’ head, watching. Louis can smell the faint sweaty scent, knowing that when Harry leaves Louis to actually go sleeping, he will take a long hot shower. He has to ease the pain somehow. The hot shower will do just that. 

But Harry doesn’t move. He stands there, staring holes in to Louis’ body. In reality, Louis doesn’t know how long he can take. He can feel how his heart tries to beat harder, louder, tries to beat out of his chest. It almost screams Harry’s name. It’s extremely hard for him to stay still. Louis is pretty sure Harry already knows he isn’t asleep. 

 

When Harry does move, he comes closer. He moves with the lightest steps. Louis feels how the hem of Harry’s shorts graze his bicep gently, making his skin rise with goose bumps. With graceful moves, Harry takes the crumbled blanket and spreads it over Louis. He stands for a moment longer next to Louis, until he moves and leaves Louis alone. 

With a quiet breathe, Louis blows all the air from his lungs. He feels like one has collapsed from staying so still and alert. He hears Harry tiptoeing upstairs to the bedroom and the bathroom. Louis listens to the shower being turned on, and he can almost feel the steam in the air. But Harry is alone in that shower, steaming away, while Louis stays on the couch, drenched in his own nervous sweat. 

 

The shower turns off. Harry opens the bedroom door, probably because it’s too humid in the room. With a soft rustle of the sheets and a long sigh, everything becomes quiet.

Louis listens and waits until he can hear just the cute little snores he sometimes listens to in the middle of the night, when Harry is cradled in his arms. Now Louis sleeps alone, Harry in their bed, keeping such a distance, a distance that feels planted with mines. 

 

\- -

 

The sleep never comes. The light snores continue, but never lullabys Louis to sleep, never takes him away. He sits on the edge of the couch, his head resting on top of his hands, and his elbows make red markings on his bare thighs. Louis doesn’t even want to know what the time is. It’s too much; that’s all he needs to know.

With the reassurance of Harry’s light snores, Louis dresses in a t-shirt and a pair of joggers and walks around the house. He doesn’t turn on any lights; he just wants to breathe in the air of their home, feel the warmth that the walls hold in, he wants to just be. In the pressuring silence Louis walks aimlessly. 

He sits on the stairs, on the lower step. He looks at the tattoos on his arms, inked on his skin. The weak light, which filters through the few windows close to the stairs, give Louis enough light to see the memories. 

 

*

“I want to get a tattoo,” Harry says, next to Louis. He flicks his curls from his eyes. Louis rests his head on the back of the couch and stares at Harry, even though he should be going through his emails. 

“What were you thinking?” Louis’ voice catches in his throat, the strain in his neck too much for his vocal chords. 

“Something...” Harry munches the word in his mouth. His cheeks tint pink, his mouth hesitates to smile.

“I was actually thinking about something that would remind me of you?” Harry says under his breath. He is nervous. His fingers tap his laptop on his lap. The touch makes a light sound, like a mouse running on laminated floor. 

“Of me?” Louis raises his brows, lifting his head from the back of the couch. 

“Yeah, you know…” 

“I don’t, Harry,” Louis laughs quietly, knowing very well what Harry means. 

“I just want something that will remind me of you when we’re apart.” Harry scrunches his brows together, annoyed that he had to say it out loud.

“Like a quote, or…?” 

“Do you remember the first words we said to each other?”

“How could I forget?” Louis laughs, dropping his gaze to his lap. It plays clearly in his head – his first meeting with the young boy next to him. 

“I want to get ‘Hi’ tattooed and I kind of want you to write it.” Harry sucks in a huge breath and looks at Louis with unsure eyes. 

“If you are getting the ‘Hi’, then I want the ‘Oops’ in your handwriting.” Louis tilts his head and gives Harry a mischievous smirk. 

“You serious? You’d get that tattooed?” 

“The ‘Hi’ has to have its counterpart.” 

Harry laughs at that, his dimples popping out. He only nods, before he turns back to his laptop. Louis watches him from the corner of his eye, seeing other tattoo ideas scroll by on the screen. 

*

 

Louis watches Harry’s sleeping body, curled on their bed. He drags his fingers over the dagger tattoo, thinking about the first moment when he and Harry held their arms side by side, lining the rose and the dagger together. It was perfect. 

The wallpaper rustles quietly under Louis’ fingertips as he walks forward and keeps his skin attached to the surface. The pictures on the walls are like a trip down memory lane. 

 

*

“Lets just take this one photo, pleeease,” Louis whines to Harry’s back. Harry wasn’t going to turn around, Louis sees it in his position, in his angry boyfriend. 

“You know, even though we laugh at this ‘beard’ thing from time to time, sometimes it really makes me angry,” Harry growls under his breath. For an eighteen year old, Harry really is mature. His words also shut Louis up. 

They’ve laughed at the bearding, how Louis has to go through with these ‘dates’ and how he has to be seen with that one girl. They’ve laughed at the pictures and how forced they are. 

But sometimes, just sometimes Harry’s patience falters. And then Louis’ patience comes crashing down too. He’s in a fake relationship with a girl, when in real life he’s in a relationship with the sweetest guy he has ever known to walk this earth. And he can’t even tell people about it. 

Of course there are people who know, the rest of the band, their parents. Management. It’s almost laughable that Louis’ sisters don’t know about him and Harry, but their management does. 

Louis has always had a thing between him and the team. He has always known that they aren’t as fair as they might seem. Now he knows first-hand why their team isn’t as fair as they seem to be. 

“Harry…” Louis sighs, setting the camera next to him on the bed. 

“I’m sorry I can’t be with you on your birthday.” He crawls behind Harry’s back, his hands landing on Harry’s shoulders. Slowly Louis pulls Harry down and lays next to him. 

“I’m sorry too.” Harry’s sad eyes meet Louis’, and for a brief moment he looks really old. Older than he has ever seemed before; somehow wiser. 

“I want to have something with me while I’m on my ‘vacation’,” Louis gestures, rolling his eyes. He gets a small smile pulled from Harry. Louis is almost happy he managed to do that. 

“I don’t want to live off pictures.”

“We’ll get the chance when we don’t have to pretend anymore. Trust me.” Louis thumbs Harry’s cheek, his fingers slowly curling into Harry’s hair. 

“Don’t let Nicky boy ruin you on your big birthday night,” Louis teases, his eyes serious, but his smirk the very opposite. Harry doesn’t want to smile or laugh at Louis, but he does, with kisses peppered onto Louis’ face. 

*

 

It feels too long ago to even think about the girl who had been third wheel for so long. Louis smiles to himself, when he remembers how him and Harry celebrated the ending of the contract. And it’s silly to even think that it was some sort of a huge party, when it wasn’t. 

They spent the whole day in some hotel room, lying in bed, watching movies and eating cake. It was a really good cake, a chocolate and raspberry one. Harry had complained that his skin wouldn’t like the amount of sugar, but Louis had smeared his cheek with the icing, licking it off afterwards. Harry didn’t complain after that. 

 

Louis stands in the middle of their small study. It’s just a table and a computer, a couple of shelves on the wall. There is also a picture, which Louis doesn’t want to keep on public display. Harry had asked why, when he had framed it. He already knew why but kept saying that Louis was beautiful and that he’d love him no matter what. 

 

*

“I made you an omelette,” Harry announces, carrying a white plate with a fork in his hand. Louis looks at the food with disgust in his eyes, as Harry places the steaming plate in front of him. 

“I’d much rather have tea and a cigarette.” Louis takes the fork in his hand, poking the omelette around. There’s pepper and tomato and ham in the omelette, things that Louis actually likes. 

But for some reason he can’t get himself to eat any of it. He’ll just gain weight. He’ll be seen as the one with the tummy. He’ll be soft, too soft. 

The stress has made Louis lose weight. And the weight loss has made him not want to eat. Only smoking and tea for him with some small portions of food here and there. Working out with Harry and writing songs with Liam. That’s his life now. 

Louis has been seen as this curvy boy since day one and he doesn’t want to be that anymore. He wants to be seen as the leader, the one with the great talent. He wants to be something powerful. But his obsession over perfection in his work has created a shadow over his health. 

“Did you make any for yourself?” Louis tries to distract his mind. That’s what the doctor had said to him, he should do something while eating. Read or talk with others who are eating. It will take the pressure off. But when it comes to actually executing the task, it proves to be very hard. 

“Of course I did!” Harry comes in carrying a similar white plate. When he sets it on the table next to Louis’ plate, next to Louis, he sees the difference. 

It looks like Harry has probably used only one egg for Louis, whereas for himself he has used what appears to be four. Harry sits down, pouring Louis and himself water. 

“You want to go to the gym today?” Louis starts, the fork shaking in his hand. 

“I thought I’d have today off.” Harry smiles, slowly taking the fork in his hand. He smiles at Louis, it’s the reassuring and warm and calming type of smile. The one Louis can’t stand in this moment. He feels like a little child, his head covered with a hood, his foot tapping the floor. Like he’ throwing a silent temper tantrum. 

Louis can feel how Harry takes the edge of the hood between his fingers and pulls it back revealing Louis’ messy, sleep heavy hair and his prominent cheekbones. They are hollowed, his eyes dark. 

“I’m not sure if I want to eat this much,” Louis says, not daring to look at Harry. 

“That’s fine.” Harry puts his hand on Louis’ thigh, squeezing it lightly. He eats his food slowly, giving Louis time to process the meal in front of him. Food. What a curse word it has become.

That morning Louis ate almost half of his breakfast, earning a back massage from Harry. 

That was also the first night Harry didn’t complete his line while singing a song at a concert. 

* 

 

Louis sits down on to the comfortable chair in the study. He pulls out the drawers on the desk, seeing important papers, signed papers, contracts. Contracts that expired a long time ago. These papers seem so meaningless now, compared to the moments when they had to sign them. When Harry had to sign them. 

 

*

“Where are you now?” Louis’ voice comes out of his mouth with a long sigh. He lays in his and Harry’s bed, relaxing against the mattress. He can hear Harry’s slow breathing and some shuffling. 

“I’m in a hotel room. You’ll see the pictures tomorrow.” Harry sounds really tired. Louis wants to be there with him, holding his hand or cuddling him. To just be in the same room. 

“How has it been?” Louis dares to ask. Harry has warned him about things he has to do with the girl he is allegedly seeing. He has to walk with her around New York, so it would seem like they spend all of their time together. They have to step in and out of the same hotel, sometimes Harry has to do it alone. Like it was a walk of shame, lined with yelling paparazzi. 

Louis knows there has to be something worse coming, but he doesn’t want to think about it. Not really.

“I’m so tired, it’s just us, we don’t even know what to say to each other anymore. And every time I try to leave this damn hotel to get some fresh air, the paparazzi finds me. And let’s not forget the paparazzi camped outside.” 

Louis doesn’t know what to say. He has put Harry through this for so long, but Harry has never been the one getting all of the attention. And now when he is ‘happily in a relationship with another pop star’, Louis feels extremely jealous. He doesn’t want this anymore. 

He wants to be the pop star that Harry is openly dating. Not someone who Harry can call at two in the morning. He doesn’t want a relationship over the phone. He wants the whole thing all the time. 

“It’ll be over soon.” Louis manages to say through the lump in his throat. 

“They want us to go to Times Square on New Year’s Eve.” Harry drops the bomb on Louis. He knew it, but when Harry confirms it, it shakes Louis to the core, makes his blood turn cold. 

“Will you go?” 

“I have to.” 

“I don’t want you to go.” 

“I don’t want to go, either.” 

*

 

Louis closes the drawer with a shaky hand. Harry’s words from that night echo in his head. Louis still remembers how he spent that New Year’s Eve with his family, staying up and waiting for pictures or a video of Harry and his precious girlfriend. When he got what he wanted to see, he threw up.

Harry had called him that night, crying and apologising over and over again. Even though he had nothing to apologise for, he did. 

 

They got through it. Little did they know, there would be other girlfriends during the winter periods, but they were cleverer when the second year arrived. 

They made a deal: Harry would get to spend the holidays with Louis and their families, or the contract would be off. At other times, he’d be able to work. 

 

The steps downstairs creak as Louis walks them down slowly. His body is so tired, but his mind is still wide awake. The shadows in the darkness of the corners create shapes that seem like ghosts from the past. 

They remind Louis of the bad that happened, the things they’ve had to fight for. They’ve been fighting for freedom so long. Finally there is some light at the end of the tunnel, but still. There is a long way to go. 

 

*

“Sshhh, sssshhhh!” Harry shushes, Louis sitting right next to him. 

“Who are you shushing?” Louis whispers, with a lazy glint in his eyes. Harry’s head snaps to him. His smile is from another world, it’s so goofy. Harry stares at Louis for a good moment before he bursts into light giggles. He leans his head on Louis’ chest, his hands holding onto Louis’ waist. 

“This isn’t good for you.” 

“It’s not good for anyone,” Harry whispers, but he sounds like he was trying to yell. He makes Louis laugh, Harry’s breathing hitting his neck. 

“I really do think we’ve had enough.” Louis’ eyes follow Harry’s moves, but they are slow, as if someone’s pressed the slow motion button. The drinks and the weed aren’t a good combination. Louis knew that already, but Harry had insisted on trying it. 

Louis’ hand roams in Harry’s hair. It’s getting longer. Harry gives Louis a look, the bedroom eyes, only dreamier. He leans his head into Louis’ hand, their position awkward. 

Harry is trying to hold onto Louis, but his weak arms are losing their way. Louis lets his hand drop from Harry’s hair. A pout forms on Harry’s lips, his brows sad. 

Louis leans forward, putting the joint out in to the ash tray. He stands up, his legs wobbling for a moment. 

“Lets go out.” Louis holds out his hand to Harry, who takes it firmly between his palms. 

Louis leads Harry outside, his back hitting corners and walls as he walks backwards. It’s extremely hilarious in Harry’s opinion. He lifts their joined hands to his mouth and giggles against Louis’ palm. 

The door opens, cool summer night air hitting their bodies. Louis’ skin rises with goose bumps, his tank top not giving him enough warmth. 

Harry’s naked upper body seems like a good blanket, Louis draping Harry’s arms over his shoulders. He was right; Harry is a perfect heat source. 

They walk on the concrete, somewhere in Europe. Louis can only remember, that they were clever enough to rent a small apartment for him and Harry just for the time they are here. It was the best idea ever. 

Everything glows in a weird way. It’s dark, but their surroundings are like small sources of light. It has to be the weed, but Louis has never seen things like this. He smoked too much. 

Harry’s body becomes unbearably heavy, his arms limp over Louis’ shoulders. 

“Are you sleeping?” Louis asks, his voice echoing in his head. He wonders if he even said the words aloud. Maybe he did, because Harry mumbles nonsense as an answer. 

“Maybe we should just go to sleep, love,” Louis giggles, his eyes somehow finding the front door back inside. Harry almost snores against Louis’ shoulder, his face tucked into the crook of Louis’ neck. Definitely time to go to sleep. 

They stumble inside, all four feet moving as if they were filled with cement. Slowly the bedroom comes into view, and a slow smile spreads to Louis’ lips. 

“I want cake,” Harry mumbles, his head lifting from Louis’ skin. 

“You know what, I want too.” Louis agrees, crashing them both in to the soft bed. The covers jump up, the nicely made bed a mess just like that. 

“Get me cake Louis.” Harry whines, his arms holding Louis by his neck. Louis feels heavy as he would just want to sleep, but at the same time the nagging feeling of hunger claws his stomach. 

“Don’t fall asleep.” Louis mumbles, somehow untangling himself from Harry’s grip. 

He stumbles into the kitchen, opens the fridge and finds the delicious looking chocolate cake that Harry had wanted to buy after the concert. Maybe he’d had the munchies before he’d even tried the weed. 

Louis cuts a hefty piece for both of them, flipping it onto a plate. He gets only one fork; they can share. 

Louis finds his way back to the bedroom, and finds Harry no longer in the bed. He’s standing by the window, his nose almost against the clear surface. 

“What are you doing?” Louis asks, squinting his eyes. Harry breathes against the window with a slow breath, his eyes closed. The cold light outside makes his skin glow even more than it had earlier, as if he were made of snow. 

Harry doesn’t answer. He looks at the steamy spot, his eyes crossed. He lifts his hands to the window, one supporting him, the other resting against the grey spot. 

With a slow consistent movement of his forefinger, he draws a heart. He follows the line over and over again before the moisture has evaporated. 

He blows air to the window again, making the area bigger. Stars and hearts and little letters of ‘H’ and ‘L’ appear in the condensation, Louis captivated by Harry’s drawings. 

Louis is sure that he stands there for quite some time, the piece of cake waiting to be eaten. He remembers it just as his stomach growls at him. 

“Cake,” Louis says, his throat dry. Harry turns to him, his whole upper body turning with his head. He smiles, sitting on the floor under the window. He holds his hands for Louis, inviting him to sit on his lap. 

“Cake,” Harry agrees, Louis sitting on his lap with his knees against the wall. Harry’s smirk never leaves his face, when his slack hands rest on Louis’ thighs. Louis feeds him like Harry’s a Greek god who can’t use his own hands. 

Harry’s eyes follow Louis’ mouth, as he eats small pieces of cake. It’s pretty clear that Harry isn’t after the cake, as Louis’ mouth becomes the target of Harry’s hunger. 

*

 

Louis smiles to himself, as he sits on the couch again. The pillow and blanket wait for him with their warmth and the possible sleep that they could offer. But Louis isn’t feeling it. 

He smiles warmly at the memories of his and Harry’s shared experiences. Sometimes they snuck out from their hotels or rented houses just for themselves and went to see the sights at night. 

The Eiffel Tower; one night at three am, they had stood under it. Louis still remembers how Harry wanted pictures of it at different angles and took some pictures of Louis as well. Now they are hung on the upstairs wall that leads to their bedroom. 

These walls are so full of memories, good and bad. This house hasn’t even captured all of their memories, because they haven’t been home. 

 

He does come to the conclusion that these walls need to see more happiness. Not loneliness and tears when they’ve been apart. Or heard calls that are full of I miss you’s or questions of when the other will be home again. 

These walls have captured passion and anger, sadness and happiness, light and darkness. All of the ups and downs. But not enough the lighter parts. 

 

*

Harry’s eyes say it all. They glint in the darkened cabin of the plane, his mouth in a light smirk that’s too inviting. Louis sits opposite from him, his mind racing with his heart. He sees how Harry fiddles with the delicate gold necklace, the pearl and the ring firmly attached to it. 

The others are sleeping on the other side of the aisle, some team members still awake watching a movie, reading books, listening to music and trying to catch some sleep or arranging things on their computers. With graceful subtlety, Louis checks everyone from his seat, gazing back at Harry. He nods his head towards the small toilet at the other end of the plane. 

With abrupt movements, Louis throws the electric blanket off and rushes into the toilet. He takes light steps, seeing Lottie sleeping next to Lou. Her ears are covered with earphones, which Louis is very happy about. It’s not really ideal, joining the mile high club when there are family members around, but it can’t be helped. 

Lou sees him though. She offers him a smile, as Louis’ cheeks tint red and he swallows, trying to smile as normally as he can. He breathes out all the air from his lungs, relaxing his muscles. Louis steps in to the toilet, leaving it open, just ajar, to make it seem like it’s closed. 

Louis leans against the small counter, his hands firmly against the hard metal. He looks at himself in the mirror, seeing his wild eyes, the blue roaming to his neck and seeing his pulse beating in the vein. He hears light steps approaching and a knock against the door. Harry’s head peeks inside, his grin turning wider. 

He steps inside, invading Louis’ space. Louis pulls Harry even closer, his chest crashing to Louis’. Harry manages to shut the door, the lock clicking loudly. Louis attacks Harry’s lips, his teeth biting the tender skin. 

Harry moans into Louis’ mouth, his hands grabbing Louis’ hips. He pulls Louis against him, Louis feeling how hard Harry is through his sweats. Louis turns them around, lifting Harry’s ass onto the counter. His toes try to keep him balanced, his weight secured by Louis’ wide stance between his legs. 

“Turn around,” Louis groans in to Harry’s ear, as he manages to detach his lips from Harry’s. Louis is already pulling Harry’s shirt over his head, before he can answer anything. Louis hands roam his hips, squeezing violently, leaving white marks on to Harry’s heated flesh. 

Harry turns around, his hair falling across his eyes. He leans his head onto the side of Louis’ head, his back arching. 

“Want you to fuck me so bad,” Harry breathes, Louis swallowing with a long sigh. Louis peppers kisses across Harry’s cheek, his hands keeping Harry in place. Slowly he lands on his knees, his hands never leaving Harry’s back. 

Harry’s muscles vibrate and break a cold sweat under Louis’ shallow bites. Louis’ right hand pushes Harry to lean forward, his other hand pulling his sweatpants down with one swift movement. Louis feels like he’s drunk. His blood is intoxicated, his lust all he can see. 

Harry’s muffled moans fill the small toilet, as Louis works to make him ready. His wet, heated mouth is filled with flames that lick Harry all over. His hands are strong and gentle at the same time, remembering what Harry likes and doesn’t like, what turns him on even more, what could throw him over the edge. 

Louis stands back up, Harry’s arms against the mirror. Louis drops his own sweats, glad that he’s travelling commando. As soon as he dives into Harry, he feels the pressure in his gut, his lower back tingling and burning. 

He leans against Harry’s back, his hands landing against the mirror with a loud smack. Harry bites his own arm, trying to keep himself quiet. 

The plane goes through some turbulence, and some more, the sensation driving Louis deeper in to Harry. He can hear high whimpers escaping Harry’s mouth, his lower lip visible from the underside of his arm. 

The necklace around Harry’s neck sways wildly between him and the mirror, threatening to crack the glass. Louis’ teeth bite into Harry’s shoulder, leaving red, angry marks on Harry’s skin. 

Harry groans under his breath, Louis feeling how close he is. With an arch of Harry’s back and Louis’ sweaty fringe against his back, Harry’s legs start to shake, his arms slipping from the mirror. 

Louis’ hands secure him from hitting the floor, keeping him in place, while he slows down. He holds Harry in place, his arms holding Harry’s middle against his front. 

Harry’s hands hold on to the metal counter, Louis slowly sitting them down. He cleans them up, kisses Harry’s shoulders and his back, pressing extra kisses to the bite marks. 

Harry laughs low and breathy, still a bit out of it. He leans against Louis, his eyes closed. Louis sweeps Harry’s moist curls from his forehead, kissing Harry’s cheek and swaying them slowly from side to side. 

“I love you,” Harry whispers, his smile tired and too happy.

“I love you more,” Louis whispers into Harry’s ear. He presses his hand against the pearl and the ring on Harry’s chest, Harry’s heart beating through them. 

Louis is the first to leave the toilet. He steps out, his back straight, his limbs like jelly. He fixes his fringe, as he closes the door to the toilet nonchalantly. Lou’s eyes hit him instantly, as Louis makes his way back to his seat. 

She smirks, her brows raised. Louis smiles playfully back at her, not really caring what she thinks. He finds his seat, the blanket he had on earlier now laying on the seat next to his. He drapes himself in the warmth, buckling himself up. 

Harry steps out of the toilet, his hair wild and his eyes lazy. He whispers “Goodnight” to Lou. He smiles like he’s high. 

He sits in his own seat, covering himself in his blanket, his feet tangling between Louis’. He mouths a “Goodnight love” to Louis, before he closes his eyes. His toes wiggle against the ticklish skin on Louis’ ankles, bringing a smile to Louis’ face. 

*

 

A slow rain starts to fall in the early hours of morning. Louis is still awake, his brain going through memories, like he’s watching a movie of his and Harry’s lives together. He is living through all the good and the bad times, calmly going through the ups and downs. 

Louis stands in front of the kitchen counter, his mouth pouting towards the slowly heating kettle. He leans against the counter, his eyes swimming in the light that illuminates only the small part where he is standing. The humming of the rain against the windows is hypnotic, but Louis isn’t giving up. 

 

He knows they’ll be free soon. The last contract, the one that has caged the whole band since the beginning, is ending. They’ll be free. That’s one of the reasons why they’re going on a break; they need the time to adjust, to make things right everywhere. 

But the only thing Louis can only think about is that he’ll be free. Harry will be free. And they’ll get to be whoever they want to be. They’ll get to go on holiday; they’ll get to hold each other’s hands. They’ll get to talk to each other in public. The idiotic restrictions will be buried and they’ll finally get to live life as they want. 

 

Of course it won’t change in one night. Of course Louis is anxious. Of course he’s nervous of what is going to happen when it all hits the light of day. 

But also, he isn’t terrified. He isn’t waiting for the worst. He is just waiting to live outside these four walls with his boyfriend, with his future husband. If Harry will still take him. 

 

The kettle bings and Louis pours himself tea through his exhaustion. All the adrenaline in his blood has evaporated through his pores into thin air. 

With a lazy slouch, Louis sits down by the kitchen table. His phone is waiting for him, ready for him to make a call. He takes a sip of his too hot tea, his tongue burning and the roof of his mouth turning to sand paper. 

He looks at the dark screen, fingerprints visible on the glass surface. With another sip of his tea he takes the phone in his hand, searching for the number, his thumb already hovering over the call button. 

With a sweep of his eyes to the clock on the corner of the screen, Louis sees that its only four am, not even that. Would it be right to call someone at this time? Would he be taken seriously? With a third gulp of burning tea, Louis calls. The phone rings for a good while, but he isn’t giving up. 

 

Louis’ palms start to sweat as he tries to get comfortable on the suddenly hard chair. He places the mug on the table, and immediately picks it back up again. He clears his throat quietly, making sure he will be quiet for when someone answers. 

“Hello?” A male, Pete, answers. He is the one behind this, he is the one who made Louis take part in this. He is the one behind this whole thing. 

“I quit.” Louis states simply, his voice firm and unrelenting. 

“I think you have the wrong number mate,” Pete says, Louis hearing some shuffling. 

“No, I don’t fucking have the wrong number. It’s Louis Tomlinson and I’m getting out of that shitty deal of yours,” he huffs, his throat closing on his words. 

 

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Louis hears Pete hiss. 

“Yeah, it’s almost four am and I’ve lost my sleep because of you and the things you want us to do. So I’m getting out of it. I’m saying, “no more”.” 

“Just sleep on it, you might feel differently tomorrow.” It angers Louis when he isn’t heard. He could be screaming with his head turning red, and the team wouldn’t hear him. Those fuckers.

“No, you listen to me closely. Either the deal is off, or we’ll sue you and then the tea will spill.” Louis feels almost proud of the words he chose; the tea cup in his hand is giving him good inspiration. 

 

“I’m not talking with you at this time. Tomorrow maybe, when you’ve cleared your head.” 

“My head is clear!” Louis’ voice breaks. 

“I’m not playing along this time. You can find someone who will, but it won’t be any of us. Not me. Not Harry. Not Liam. Not Niall. So fuck you, and goodnight.” 

Louis hangs up, his heart beating in his chest, his blood pumping in his veins. For once, he is standing up against the team, really standing up and saying something directly to them. 

With a long, deep sigh, the sleep falls over his shoulders, his eyes falling shut. He’s too tired to walk to the couch, his whole body relaxing at once. 

He drops his phone onto the table and folds his arms, resting his head on their hard pillow, the feeling exquisite as he finally falls into sleep.

 

*

The nerves in Louis’ gut are making his insides cold, his muscles shaking like he’s extremely cold. He’s washing his hands, the running water against his palms surprisingly calming. 

Someone walks in, Louis’ eyes quickly checking the person. Curly hair, his body a little lanky, awkward, as if the boy hasn’t yet grown into his new measurements. He stands by the urinals, his back facing Louis. 

They are the only ones in the men’s toilet. Louis feels like he should say something, greet the boy or tell him good luck. But he doesn’t, neither does the boy by the urinals. Louis keeps washing his hands, the water turning cold against his skin. 

The boy comes to wash his hands in the sink next to Louis’. It’s surprisingly not awkward around the curly boy with the sweet cheeks. Louis glances towards him through the corner of his eye, watching him wash his hands thoroughly, repeating the same movements over and over again. 

Louis feels like making a snarky comment, asking if his hands are clean yet. But then he remembers that he is doing the exact same thing, his palms rubbing against each other continuously. 

Curly turns off the tap, shaking his hands over the sink. Large drops of water land on to Louis’ white cardigan, the knit turning dark. 

“Oops! I’m so, so sorry!” The young boy apologizes, his hands freezing, his face turning into a grimace. Louis’ round eyes meet those already staring at him. Green. That’s the colour of his eyes. 

“Hi,” Louis smiles, his lips turning in to a wide grin.

“Hi,” the other boy smiles back, deep dimples forming on his cheeks. 

“I really am sorry,” he says to Louis, nodding towards the splashes of water on Louis’ cardigan. 

“Pffft, it’s nothing, just water.” Louis waves his hand in the air, drops of water tracing the veins on his wrist under his sleeve. 

The boy smiles, his eager green eyes sparkling like emeralds. They are captivating, even in the unpleasant toilet light. His curls are everywhere, making him look very innocent. His voice is young, still trying to find the right path. 

“You here for the audition?” the boy with the emerald eyes asks, his hands dripping water onto the floor. 

“Yeah.” Louis points to the sticker on his shirt where his audition number is printed. The young boy laughs nervously, his cheeks turning red. 

“Nervous?” Louis asks, swallowing thickly. That boy has to be one of the cutest he has ever seen. 

“Yeah, very,” he nods, looking down. Louis’ eyes follow him, seeing how the boy lifts his hands a little, deciding to dry them on to his brown pants. 

“Well, good luck,” Louis says, turning on his heels and leaving. As the door closes behind him, he realizes that he didn’t dry his hands either. With swift movements, he wipes them on his jeans, leaving dark marks on the dark denim. 

Louis takes a few steps forward, his nerves hitting again. He looks back, seeing the curly boy walking out of the toilet. He looks straight ahead, his feet glued to the floor. Louis doesn’t even think when he turns his whole body around and walks to the boy. 

“I think you’re going to make it, you know, big time. And this might sound crazy, but can I have your autograph?” Louis swallows, digging an old receipt from the back pocket of his jeans. Chocolate, definitely for the girls, and some tea for him, the paper tells. 

The boy startles a bit, his eyes staring at Louis in wonder. He nods, a smile popping his dimples out again. 

“What’s your name?” The boy tries to sound serious. 

“Louis,” he says, the boy already writing something onto the paper. He keeps it against his thigh. 

Louis feels like laughing because they boy was carrying a black marker in his pocket. He writes carefully, his curls blocking Louis’ view. 

The boy finally stands up straight, a shy smile on his face. 

“It was nice meeting you,” he says, capping the marker and sticking it in the pocket of his jeans. He gives the piece of paper to Louis, folding it with his fingers. Louis smiles back, watching the boy leave. 

With a lightness in his step, Louis goes in the other direction, looking down at the receipt for chocolate and tea.

‘To Louis. See you again? Harry’

*

 

As Louis sleeps, the sun rises behind the grey clouds. The rain strums the roof with a constant rhythm that isn’t going to give up. 

The first thing the light touches in the kitchen is a framed piece of paper. The writing has faded, blurred from the edges, but it’s still very clear what it says. 

‘To Louis. See you again? Harry’ in Harry’s boyish handwriting. 

‘We will, the boy with the emerald eyes’. Louis’ handwriting compliments Harry’s, those words written the night Louis had found out that Harry had gotten through his audition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll update on Wednesday, the 30th :)


	4. Plans

With a content stretch, Harry wakes up. He breathes in the sleep filled warm air, the sun shining to his surprise. His eyes blink for a moment to find something to focus on. The huge duvet swallows him under the warmth, his hand reaching instinctively to find the person next to him. 

But Louis isn’t there. Harry turns to see the unused fluffy pillow, the empty cold spot. The fight from last night comes back to him like a train derailing. The contented feelings fall off the tracks, into muddy ground. They’re replaced with unhappiness and a sense of betrayal, which covers the joy like a sheet.

Harry knows why Louis did it. Harry knows that Louis only wanted to protect him. But the way it all happened seemed so unreal. Louis has always been open about these things, about anything that might compromise their relationship. 

It’s always been like that in the band; whenever someone was going to get into a situation that might get a lot of attention, they told each other about it. This simple rule has prevented them from being totally dumbfounded when they are closely followed. 

 

This time around, Louis hadn’t told Harry. He hadn’t told anyone about the new deal. He’d hid it, and the truth had come out. That’s it. The truth is out. 

If Louis had just told Harry about what was going to come, it would’ve been different. Sure Harry would’ve been angry, but he wouldn’t have felt so betrayed. He wouldn’t have felt like a piece in a game. This stunt is an obstacle throwing him further from the finish line. 

 

Harry just wants to stay in bed, under the covers, and sleep it all away. Maybe watch some trashy television and eat some junk food for once. But other than that, he’s ready to just sleep. 

Of course, he can’t. He can’t forget this; he can’t let it slide like it was a no biggie. He’s getting married to Louis for goodness sake. These kinds of things have to be figured out. He just doesn’t know how to approach this. 

 

So Harry decides to get some breakfast, clear his head from the dreams he’d had. He can’t even remember what he’d dreamed about; he can only remember feeling constant confusion. He really needs to wash this feeling away with tea and fresh fruit and a scone. 

Quietly, Harry walks downstairs, his eyes drifting towards the sofa in the living room. Empty. He walks closer, the temporary bed very clearly not slept in. The sheet is still intact between the cushions, the pillow fluffy, as it was never used. 

Real confusion fills Harry’s head, as he tries to think where Louis could’ve gone. It’s not like he’d be feeling the most energized either; surely Louis would want to sleep, too, and he’d still be sleeping, with nothing to do and no Harry to wake him. But Louis isn’t sleeping in the living room. 

 

Harry finds the explanation to his jumbled mind in the kitchen. Louis is sleeping by the dining table, his upper body leaning against the surface. 

Harry walks silently, his mouth curling upwards just the slightest, when he sees Louis’ slightly open mouth. A half full tea mug is next to his hand, his phone on the table. 

Harry wants to feel the same betrayal and anger as he had felt in bed, but somehow he can’t get himself to feel that hate anymore. 

 

Quietly, Harry makes himself tea. Louis doesn’t wake up even though Harry hits his head on the cupboard door, cursing under his breath. Louis doesn’t even flinch when the mug hits the table a little too loudly. Louis stays completely still, his slow breathing flowing, as if he’d been sleeping forever. 

Harry sits opposite Louis, slowly drinking his tea. The steam rises from the mug, Harry’s eyelashes catching the hot air. Harry feels warm in the late autumn sun after a rainy night, his bathrobe an excellent shoulder warmer. He watches Louis sleep, his body never showing any signs of waking up. 

Harry finishes his tea, and grabs an orange. He peels it slowly, the juices dripping from his fingers onto the table. The smell reminds him of a holiday in France with Louis a couple of summers ago; a lovely sunny day, spent on the beach, eating oranges. The smell of the fruit brings clear visuals into Harry’s head of the beach; he can almost hear the ocean waves and the seagulls laughing up in the sky. 

 

The happy bubble Harry creates with the images of the holiday pop as Louis’ phone starts to ring. As if he’s attached to electric wires, Louis wakes up, his hand shooting out and sweeping his mug from the table. 

Harry watches it crash to the floor, Louis clearly still somewhere between sleep and wake. He blinks his eyes, the cold tea spreading onto the floor as the crashed pieces of the mug lay in the pool.

Louis’ eyes fixate on Harry, who is looking at the broken mug. The phone is still ringing. Louis takes it in to his hand and answers with a broken a voice. 

 

“Morning,” he says, his hand rubbing his eyes. Harry eats his orange while he watches Louis talking, out of the corner of his eye. Louis sounds like he’s slept for only a few hours, and dark shadows under his eyes confirm this fact. He leans his cheek into his hand, and closes his eyes. 

“No, I meant what I said last night. You’ll leave me and Harry alone. We don’t need the bullshit you’re trying create around us,” his stern voice says to the person on the phone. 

“I am really sure about it. You really need to wake up and open your eyes to see what works and what doesn’t.” Louis opens his eyes, the first glance straight to Harry, his eyes drifting on to the spilled tea on the floor. 

“I never even signed anything! She might be doing this, but I’m not!” Louis raises his voice, his hand slamming against the table. He stands up and starts to pace across the kitchen, avoiding the broken china. 

“You can keep your shitty contracts because I’m not signing anything!” Louis ends the call, his eyes squeezing shut. He stands still while he tries to calm his breathing. 

 

“Who was that?” Harry asks before he puts another piece of orange into his mouth. 

“Pete,” Louis sighs. He looks at the tea on the floor. He locks his phone and puts it on the table. He collects the shards from the floor, throwing them in the bin. He takes a cloth and dries the tea, making sure there are no shards left by cleaning the spot a few times. Harry watches him clean, impressed that he’s doing it so thoroughly. 

“Why were you talking to Pete?” 

“Why do you think?” 

“I think you have no choice but to tell me, because I’m not listening to you being rude to me,” Harry bites back, his eyes hard as Louis glances at him. 

 

“I called him last night to tell him I’m not doing another deal with him. With any of them.” 

“So you can just end it? Just like that? When earlier it took you years?” Harry remarks. His head says that he shouldn’t be this hard, but at the same time his anger is coming back. It’s like a rock band’s playing nonstop in his head while he’s trying to stay calm. 

“Yes, because I didn’t sign any contracts.” 

“You… didn’t?” Harry scrunches his brows together, clearly confused. Louis wasn’t even bound by any contracts?

“No, I haven’t. I was supposed to sign them in two days, but Pete wanted to start the stunt yesterday.” 

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Harry dives in head first. The question silences Louis. 

“I…” 

“You wanted to protect me?” Harry fills Louis’ sentence. 

“That too. But also because I wasn’t sure, of course I wasn’t. Pete told me that another bearding incident would be great promo, because apparently we’ve been acting too couple-y. So it would bring something new to the mix. I didn’t want to do it, because it would hurt you, and us, and it would only be confusing.” Louis comes back to sit on his chair. 

“What about the picture? Is it still there?” 

“Picture?” 

“The one on your Twitter? With the girl,” Harry reminds Louis, his shoulders shuddering as he brings up the subject. 

“I… Don’t know actually.” Louis picks his phone up and goes to his Twitter. The picture’s gone. 

 

“What exactly did you tell Pete last night?” 

“I told him that I’m not taking part in this, none of us are.” 

“Did you tell him something about us getting a new team?” 

“I can’t remember. Maybe? I’m certainly ready to ditch these people now.” 

“But you also know they can sue you if you tell them that?” Harry is the voice of reason. They could get sued. 

“Of course I know that. But I’m just so tired of this. Even though I only wanted to protect you, you have every right to be mad at me. I should’ve told you about this. I should’ve told you about the new possible stunt. I’m sorry Harry. I really am.”

“I don’t know what I was trying to do with this but I also want to end this shit that we have to endure just for some fucking promo. And for what? I care more about you and our relationship than money and being rich for the rest of our lives. You know that, right?” Louis tries to apologize. He really is tired. Harry can hear it in Louis’ rambling, Louis can feel it in his body.

 

“I know why you did it and I appreciate that you were trying to protect me. But Louis, I’m not some damsel in distress. We’re supposed to be equal in this relationship. We have to be able to talk about these things or nothing will work. You know that too. I don’t want your protection, I want honesty, and to know that you can trust me enough to tell me these kinds of things.” Harry tilts his head, his cold eyes finally letting out some warmth towards Louis. His posture relaxes, his words slow as he makes sure Louis understands him. 

“I’m sorry Harry. This’ll never happen again. I promise.” Louis keeps his eye contact, really meaning every word he says. 

“Good,” Harry tells him. He rises to his feet, taking the orange peelings to the compost bin. He washes his juice sticky fingers and makes his way out of the kitchen. 

 

“What should we do today?” Louis asks after Harry, his feet padding against the wooden floor.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m spending all day sleeping in bed. You’ll sleep on the sofa,” Harry orders, never looking back from the stairs. 

“Harry?” Louis swallows. He feels so alone. He knows he deserves this from Harry, but it’s not nice to actually be the target of Harry’s anger. 

“Hmm?” Harry stops in his tracks, his hand on the railing. 

“Will you still marry me?” Louis’ sounds almost desperate. He is desperate; he has no idea where their relationship stands. 

“You’ll always be the one I’ll walk down the aisle for Louis. But just leave me alone for a while. Let me be angry.” Harry turns around to look Louis in the eyes. Louis nods, standing at the bottom of the stairs. 

“I’ll be waiting for you when you’re not angry anymore.” Louis’ sadness laces his words. 

 

Harry watches him for a moment longer, knowing this is a fight they maybe needed. Not the bearding, they never needed that. But just something to let some steam out. Everything has been going too smoothly. Maybe Harry even knew something bad was coming. And in the end, they’ll both learn something new; they’ll be stronger. 

Harry turns back around, his feet leading him into the bedroom. He closes the door after him. Louis stands by the stairs until he knows that Harry won’t come back. 

Louis finds his way into the living room. He puts on the TV, some trashy reality show streaming from the flat screen. He sits on the couch, his eyes getting heavier as the fights in the TV show get harder. He lays down and falls asleep, while the people on TV are yelling obnoxious things to each other in low volume. 

 

\- - - -

 

“You’re up early.” Harry stands in the doorway to the kitchen, while Louis makes tea. The table is set with croissants and fruits, jams and cheeses waiting to be put into a baguette. 

“I had a meeting at the offices.” Louis turns to Harry and smiles. He’s dressed smartly, dark jeans and a clean-cut black shirt. 

“Who was there?” Harry rubs the sleep from his eyes, his sight landing on a clock hung from the wall. 11 am, nice. 

“Jeff, lawyers and some people from Modest.” Louis is way too cheery. 

“Well, what happened?” Harry sits down at the table, Louis pouring tea into a mug in front of Harry. Louis sits down opposite Harry and swipes jam onto a croissant. He stuffs it in his mouth, smiling that crinkly eyed smile at Harry. He swallows before he speaks again. 

“We agreed on debunking the bearding thing with Amber. And Jeff is going to talk to Irving about the new contract,” Louis says, taking a sip of his tea. 

 

“Eat, while it’s still fresh,” Louis offers, attempting to make his cheerfulness contagious. It barely touches Harry. Even though Louis has ended the bullshit, was in the process of getting rid of the rumours and he’s taken care of things for the new contract, Harry is still being distant. Louis is trying to fix everything, but something is just missing. 

Harry wants to fix this too, no questions about it. But he just feels like things are being swept under the rug, the actual root of the problem never talked about. Louis should be talking to Harry about these things; he should be explaining what’s going on prior to it happening. It’s not only because these are huge things, the contract and break, but because it involves Harry, too. 

Louis tells him everything after he’s already done something; they aren’t making any decisions together. Is this supposed to be the engagement bliss? Is this supposed to be how relationships work? No, not in Harry’s opinion. 

Louis has almost finished his croissant when he moves to eat slices of apple. Harry’s mind is going around in circles, not knowing what to do or how to solve this. He’s glad that Louis is doing everything he can to make things better. Harry just wishes he were a part of it. 

Harry stays silent as he takes a bunch of grapes, eating them slowly. There is so much he’d like to say, but nothing wants to come out of his mouth. 

 

It’s been two weeks since their last show, since everything broke out into the open. For three nights, Louis has been back to sleeping in their bed, Harry no longer wanting to sleep alone anymore. He just wants to know that Louis is there next to him, even though their relationship has hit a rough patch. 

Harry actually misses the intimacy that he isn’t getting now. Everything is about them being together, but Harry has never been this alone while he has been with Louis. No touching, no anything. Just sleeping on different sides of the bed, no one invasions of space with stroking hands or feet tangling. Just sleeping. 

Even this moment would be so different if everything were fine. This breakfast would be filled with fond looks and toes touching each other’s ankles. They would eat slowly, talk about the upcoming wedding and planning it. Planning what they’d do today. 

Now, it’s Louis rushing through his second croissant already, like he just wants to get this moment over with. So no, Harry isn’t feeling this. He thought he could start the hiatus happy. That he’d be seeing the future with bright eyes. Now it’s just him and Louis; not them anymore. Not them fixing things and talking things through. 

 

And it’s not all Louis’ fault. He’s doing whatever he can to make it all go away. He just isn’t talking with Harry. And Harry isn’t talking with him. He doesn’t share what he is feeling. He isn’t saying anything about anything or sharing what he’d like to do or planning how they’re going to get out of stunts. He just sits silently, poking the grapes on his plate. 

“You don’t like the green ones? I have red grapes in the fridge if you’d like?” Louis is quickly on his feet again. 

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m just not hungry.” Harry sighs, his elbow coming into contact with the table. He leans his head on his palm. Louis sits back down, more slowly this time. 

 

“What are you thinking?” Louis asks, his voice softer for the first time this morning. 

“I’m just thinking about everything.” Harry shakes his head, not keeping up the conversation. 

“Well whatever it is, we can figure it out,” Louis says with that fake cheery tone. Harry sighs again, his arm falling and his palm slapping against the table. 

“We don’t talk about anything anymore,” Harry snaps, his mouth staying open as he breathes through it. Louis’ smile fades, his eyes cast on to the table. 

“I’m trying my best to fix everything.” 

“Yeah, I know. But I’m the outsider now.” Harry shakes his head. He can’t just sit anymore. He stands up and makes his way to the stairs. Then he remembers what day it is. Harry walks back in to the kitchen, finding Louis with his head in his hands. 

 

“I forgot to tell you that I booked us a private suit fitting for today. It’s at three.” Harry doesn’t smile as he says the words. Suits for him and Louis. Suits for the wedding. And Harry doesn’t even smile. 

He remembers when he booked the private fitting, he couldn’t stop smiling because it was for his and Louis’ wedding. He’s finally getting married to the man he greatly loves; Louis is, and will always be, Harry’s first real love. But now, when everything is crumbling, he can’t make himself smile. He can’t make himself happy for the occasion. 

Harry is sure he’s being too hard on himself and on Louis, but he doesn’t know how to get rid of the feeling. So Harry climbs the stairs and goes into the bedroom, slamming the door shut. He crawls under the blankets and closes his eyes. He tries to fall asleep for just a bit longer. If his dreams would just take him away from here for at least a moment, he’d be grateful. 

 

\- -

 

“How does it fit?” The stylist, Anthony, asks. He’s smoothing the fabric on Louis’ shoulders, while Louis is looking at himself in the mirror. Harry is in the changing room, trying on some trousers. 

“It’s very nice, yes.” Louis nods at his reflection, lifting his hands to the lapels. 

“But?” Anthony raises his brows. 

“I’m just not sure about it.” Louis smiles gently, his eyes apologising. 

Harry emerges from behind the curtains, black trousers fitting him like a glove, neither too tight nor too loose. 

 

“Would you like to wear jeans and a t-shirt to the wedding, dear?” Harry’s prickly words fly from his mouth like the bees that decorate the silk jacket Louis is wearing.   
“No, of course not.” He frowns at Harry, who is looking at the trousers in the mirror. Harry is wearing a black tuxedo jacket with a white shirt. 

 

“I’m just not sure if this fits me,” Louis says more quietly, knowing that Harry’s in a bad mood. And lately, when he’s been in a bad mood, it always ends up in Harry not talking at all. Louis can’t understand why Harry can’t talk anymore. They don’t talk about anything. Louis is too afraid to talk to Harry and Harry isn’t opening up. So it’s just silence. 

“What’d you like to wear then?” Harry measures the trousers with his eyes, never giving a glance at Louis. Anthony stands behind them awkwardly, not knowing what to do. He has two choices. He could leave or then he could stay there. Either way he needs to give the couple some privacy. 

 

“I want to wear something that suits me. Like I know that you want to wear something that suits you, too. We could also look for suits from another place?” Louis suggests, his words laced by a gentle smile that he tries to offer Harry, but the only thing he gets is a sigh and Harry side eyeing him. 

“I actually like these suits,” Harry tells Louis, lifting his head high. 

 

“Maybe you should just stick to your sweats and trainers, and maybe we could get married in the city hall, forget the plans for the big wedding and bringing all of our families together. Let’s just forget that, so you won’t have to wear these suits that ‘aren’t you’” Harry air quotes Louis, his tone mocking. Louis’ smile fades away, hurt taking over his mind. He gives his reflection one last look, before he turns his eyes away. 

“You know, we should maybe even postpone the wedding so you can make all the calls you like and meet people you don’t tell me about. Maybe you could invite these people to the wedding; of course you need some time to organise everything. Send out all the invitations and cancel the people who were initially invited. Would that sound good to you, Tommo?” Harry’s words are like icy water thrown from a bucket. Louis looks at him, his eyes filling with anger. 

“You know, you can be as hurtful as you can, but at least I’m trying to do something to fix this all.” Louis gives a hard look to Harry, their eyes meeting. Louis walks past him into the changing room, closing the curtain with force. He rips the jacket from his shoulders, dropping the trousers to the floor. His white shirt is too crispy in the warm lights of the changing room. 

 

Louis can hear Harry talking with Anthony on the other side of the curtain. He can hear Anthony’s concerned, hushed voice asking Harry something, maybe saying something. They’ve met before, it’s clear. And it’s not really even news to Louis that Harry knows Anthony. 

Harry loves fashion and trying on new things. Anthony just works here, he’s a great stylist and he really seems like a person who knows Harry’s measurements. And for some reason it makes Louis extremely jealous. Harry is talking with him, and not with Louis. 

But the jealousy isn’t Louis’ main problem. He is looking at himself through the mirror, his tired eyes staring back through the reflection. He can hear Harry’s voice a bit more loudly, a bit more clearly. He definitely wants Louis to hear the words. And this is the thing Louis really hates. 

He doesn’t know how to solve these problems with Harry. He thought he was doing the right thing, he thought he was fixing it all. But apparently he has just made things worse. Harry had said that morning how he feels an outsider. And after that, Louis really realised that he hasn’t talked with Harry. He hasn’t been listening. He hasn’t been fixing anything. 

 

“Louis isn’t really into these things, he’s more the comfy type of person. I’ve even thought of wearing just a sweater to the wedding. I guess he doesn’t really want to put any effort into this anymore.” Harry laughs, his voice almost like it wasn’t Harry saying those words. That isn’t Louis’ Harry saying this. It’s someone else, someone bitter, someone really angry. 

Louis grits his teeth together, looking at his body in the mirror. All the tattoos that remind him of Harry. All the memories on his skin. 

He can still feel Harry’s shaky hand on Louis’ neck when they first kissed. Or the time when Harry bruised Louis’ thigh when he was holding on too as when they made love for the first time. Or the time when Harry was holding Louis’ arm when they were walking through a park in the middle of the night. 

Those things are with Louis for all his life. And now he can’t recognise the person on the other side of the curtain, the person who is mocking Louis and making comments that are between Harry and Louis alone. But there Harry is, talking about something that isn’t true, and it only shows how bad things are. 

 

With a deep breath Louis collects the trousers from the floor, folds them neatly on the hanger and places the shirt and the jacket on the other hangers. He looks at the print on the jacket, the copper coloured bees covering the black silk. It didn’t look bad on him, it was actually really nice, the more he thinks about it.

Maybe it could work on him, maybe they could make a silk shirt with the print. That could be very nice. And maybe Harry could wear the jacket and Louis could wear a black jacket on top of the silk shirt. He runs his fingers on the hem, the silk like water running between his fingers. It’s very delicate and soft. 

 

Louis pulls on his black jeans, jumping a bit to fit them in place. Harry opens the curtain in to the shared changing room, his bored face meeting Louis’ eyes. He closes the velvety curtain, them both standing in the cramped space. 

“So you’re just pouring out things from our relationship to innocent outsiders now?” Louis dares to ask, but his voice tells that he isn’t turning back now. He wants to solve this problem which is getting bigger and bigger by the day. 

“Well there really aren’t a lot of people who I can talk to about these things,” Harry answers, gently unfastening the buttons on his white shirt. 

 

“You could talk to me! Harry, why the fuck aren’t you talking to me about the things that bother you? Of course I could be a bit more open, too, but I have no idea how to talk about what I did. I’m just trying to solve it and keep you out so you don’t feel bad,” Louis reasons, turning to face Harry. But Harry doesn’t turn around, facing the wall, his shoulders tensing. That’s the sign of him getting even angrier, Louis knows it. 

“But I feel like you’re just pushing me out! You don’t tell me anything about the things you’re doing to fix everything! It’s not only you who this is affecting, it’s me too! Why can’t you see that? I’m your fiancé; we’re supposed to figure these things out together, find a solution.” Harry’s hands stop working on his shirt. Slowly he turns, but still doesn’t face Louis. 

 

“And you didn’t even tell me about it, you didn’t tell me about the plan to do another stunt, you didn’t tell me about the things you were supposed to do with that woman. And here I am, planning a wedding, the thing we’ve wanted for so long.” 

“You’re just keeping up with the ridiculous plans and living a life that’s completely separate from our life. How do you think that makes me feel, Louis? I want to share everything with you, but you’re making it extremely hard with these games you’re playing.” Harry’s hands drop to his sides. His fingers open and close, his knuckles turning white as he does so. 

“You really want to know what I was supposed to do with the girl? You really want to know why I did it?” Louis asks, tilting his head. His throat is burning as he thinks about the meeting that he had to go to.

At the time he thought that it was about the impending coming out, but then he was blindsided. 

Maybe it was a plan to make his name bigger, put Louis in to the limelight. But it never worked with Louis. Before Harry can even answer, Louis opens his mouth. 

 

“The girl was supposed to be someone who I would’ve gone out to have coffee with. I never agreed to do anything more than just coffee. Something public, something that everyone would see. Nothing more than just ‘coffee dates’ and being in public. Never going to the same places in same cars, never being seen anywhere else other than a few coffee shops that would’ve been assigned.”

“And the reason I didn’t tell you, Harry, was because you would’ve told me no. You would’ve said that you don’t want me to do it. And believe me, I never wanted to do it.” Louis breathes out, his hands lifting to his hips. 

 

“And why I didn’t want you to tell me no was because of you. If I hadn’t have done it, they would’ve made you do it. That was their plan. And I don’t want to see you in that position ever again. You would’ve been miserable with some model, who they would’ve wanted you to spend at least a few months with, and it would’ve been ugly.”

“I didn’t want that and I know that you don’t want that either. I’ve got thick skin, and I want to protect because I love you so much. But you’re making it impossibly difficult to like you because you ignoring me has been going on for a couple of weeks now. I’m trying to fix this, I never even signed any contracts!”

“I know I should’ve told you, but I didn’t and I can’t turn back time. But you have to know, that I did this because I had no other choice.” Louis finishes, his hard blue eyes trying to reach Harry. 

He sees how Harry’s shoulders lose some of the tension, how his posture changes from angry to something more fragile. The Harry underneath the hard exterior is reaching out. 

 

“But you could’ve said no to both! You could’ve said that we don’t want to do those things anymore!” Harry finally turns around. His eyes are hard, but the green sparkles with something more strongly than anger or annoyance. 

“Have you actually met the people from management, Harry? You know what they’re like. If you say no to something, you know they just make everything worse. And I didn’t want that for either of us. We’re trying to push through this and all we get is one stunt after another and shitty denials that we’ve never said. Could you just please put yourself in my shoes for a while?” Louis suggests. Harry looks in to his eyes, narrowing them like he’s trying to extract every secret from Louis. In the end he nods. 

 

“Imagine getting a call from Margaret asking you to come meet her about your public image. Imagine thinking that this is the time you’ll win, this is the talk about the coming out, about the things that make you extremely happy. Think about being free.”

“Imagine yourself sitting in front of the important people in their suits and shiny shoes. Imagine them telling you that you still have to play along to the narratives they are trying to push. Imagine saying no and then hearing that they want to call in your fiancé to have the same talk. And that the other is going to be put through a worse stunt than the one that was initially offered.”

“Imagine saying no, imagine telling them no and how wrong it all is. And then, imagine how they threaten you to get into something that will possibly break us apart. Would you like that better, Harry? Because my intention was never to hurt you. I want to fix this as quietly as I can and that’s why I’ve been having meetings with Jeff and some lawyers.”

“I want to get us all out of this shitty contract that binds us to wait for freedom. And I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you about it; I felt like shit. But I want to protect you with everything I have. But now I’m running low on fuel, I don’t know what do anymore. I love you Harry, but apparently you don’t want to be with me anymore.” Louis’ swallows the tears in his throat. 

It hurts to even think about saying it aloud. What if Harry just hands Louis the necklace with the pearl and the ring? What if it all goes to waste? All the love, it would be wasted. Louis would break. 

 

Harry stands silent, his eyes cast to the floor. His lashes seem thick from the corner Louis is looking at them. Harry doesn’t say anything to Louis, he just stands there speechless, his mind empty like a white sheet. He looks unnatural, with his paling complexion and all the tattoos scattered across skin. It’s not the Harry Louis knows. He can almost see Harry trying to collect his crumbled thoughts. 

“I wish we could figure this out. And I want to talk with you. But I want you to want to talk with me,” Louis offers. With one last glance, he puts his jumper on, collects his things and walks out of the changing room.

Louis closes the curtain, dropping his shoes onto the floor. He pulls them on and goes to look for Anthony, who has left the space where they were getting measured and fitted. Louis thinks it’s only good that he didn’t hear him and Harry talking. 

 

Louis finds Anthony outside the room where they were fitted, rolling up a measuring tape tightly. 

“Hi!” Louis smiles, patting Anthony’s shoulder a couple of times. The stylist smiles back, his eyes sympathetic. 

“I was thinking if I could make a request for the suits?” Louis asks, his easy smile relaxing Anthony. 

“Of course! What do you have in mind?” Anthony speaks quietly, his words filled with excitement. 

“Could you make a button up black silk shirt with the bees, from the same fabric as the jacket which I tried on? Because I was thinking it could be mixed with black suit pieces? Like I imagine Harry wearing the bee suit jacket in copper, but with a black shirt? And then I’d wear the bee silk shirt in copper, with a black jacket? And just black trousers, but fitted? Could something like that work?” Louis talks while gesturing with his hands. 

His eyes light up as he talks about the clothes, his mind picturing Harry wearing them. 

 

“And maybe you could have a pocket handkerchief, which would also be in that copper colour? Or maybe gold! I’d have to ask for it from the tailor, but I think we could make it happen.” Anthony smiles, as he writes down notes in to a notepad that was in his pocket. It’s the same one which he’d written Louis’ and Harry’s measurements in.

“I’ll contact you when I’ve talked with the tailor.” Anthony closes the pad, smiling at Louis. 

“Great! I’ll talk to you later then!” Louis swings his coat on, the grey air waiting for him outside. 

“See you later. It was a pleasure meeting.” Anthony shakes Louis’ hand, before Louis leaves the studio and Harry behind. He needs the fresh air, he needs to clear his head. 

But also because this is all getting so real. He knows he isn’t going to break the engagement with Harry, he knows they’ll survive this. They just need to work for this relationship a bit more. 

Louis is sure they’ll survive this. He wouldn’t have requested the design on their suits without knowing how pure and unconditional their love is for each other. Their love won’t break because of some stunt that their management wants them to do. Their love is so much more than press releases and scandals. Louis trusts Harry. And his trust says that they will get through this. 

 

\- - 

 

Harry pushes the key into the front door lock, the lock scratching against the gaps on the key. The house is dark, only a few lights on. Opening the door seems like a battle that he has to face. Harry knows that this has been going on for too long, that now is the time to solve this. But in a way it was easier to just not talk; it’s hard bringing up things that are difficult. 

The door opens with a slow swing, the only stream of light flowing from the living room. Harry toes his boots off, the heels making a sound when they hit the floor hard. He is carrying a small bag in his hand, the dark blue paper hanging stiffly from the silk handles. 

He walks closer to the living room until he sees Louis sitting on the couch. He stares in front of him, like he’s been frozen in place. 

 

“Louis?” Harry calls quietly. Louis’ eyes meet Harry’s slowly, the sadness in them unbearable. He turns his eyes away to keep staring at a spot on the wall. He doesn’t say anything or do anything, his hands lying limp on his lap, his right leg bent under his left one. Harry takes a silent breath in, and sits next to Louis, hiding the small blue bag behind his back. 

“I thought you wouldn’t come home tonight. I thought you’d gone somewhere else. I trust that we’re going to solve this but then you didn’t come home and I started to think you’d want to break off the engagement,” Louis says, his eyes hooded. 

“No, I just needed some time to think.” Harry crosses his legs, his whole body turned to Louis. 

 

“We need to talk.” 

“Now you want to talk?” Louis challenges, a grim smirk forming on his lips. It fades quickly, like it wasn’t meant to be there. His hands clutch together, squeezing hard. 

“I don’t want to be angry anymore,” Harry sighs. He leans against the back of the couch, his hand supporting his head. His words are like a magic trick to get Louis’ attention. He turns his head to look at Harry, his eyes never turning away. 

 

“I haven’t been talking to you because I have problems with these stunts. And I know that I could’ve solved these problems but I wanted you to fix it all. I wanted you to fix it with the people who are behind it. I wanted you to fix it with me. And at the same time I’m thinking that we need to talk more and trust each other.” 

“I know that you’re clearing it all out, you’re doing the dirty work. But the way you’ve been handling it hasn’t been fair. This concerns the both of us. Even if it’d been only you in the middle of it all, it would still be about the both of us. That’s my problem.”

“We need to talk about these things. We need to make a plan for the both of us so we won’t be blindsided by anything. And I want you to be honest with me, and open. We’ve never had a problem with this, we’ve always been good at sharing things. So I just don’t understand what went wrong.” Louis tilts his head at Harry’s words. He’s listening carefully, his eyes reading everything from Harry’s demeanour. 

 

“I don’t want your protection. I don’t want you to see me as this fragile boy; I’m not fragile. I want you to see me as someone who can take care of things. I want you to respect me and be honest with me.”

“We’ve been together for over six years and what we have is so much better than some press releases or stunts. We’re us. I just want you to respect me and be honest with me.” Harry swallows thickly as he fiddles with his fingers. 

“But I also feel like I should apologise. Because I was rude before. And I haven’t been taking care of us any better. I’ve only been feeling angry and betrayed and I haven’t tried to solve it. So I’m sorry.” Harry casts his eyes to the empty space between him and Louis. 

 

“Don’t say you’re sorry.” Louis reaches his hand to pull Harry’s fingers from his hair. Louis entwines their fingers together, squeezing them lightly. 

“Nothing’s your fault, and you have every right to be angry with me. I’m the one who needs to apologise for everything. For getting into the whole situation in the first place, not telling you, leaving you out. I’ve been too busy trying to fix everything that I’ve forgotten the most precious thing I have in my life.” Louis smiles gently at Harry, his tired eyes hazy in the warm lighting. 

“I don’t know what got in to me, why I got so scared. Maybe it’s the wedding, how you’re now so much more than just a boyfriend.” Louis’ moves his hand to cradle Harry’s hand against his palm. 

 

“I hope you can forgive me,” Louis says, the sadness in his eyes filling the whole room. 

“I forgive you,” Harry agrees, a shy smile lighting the room and replacing the feeling in Louis’ eyes with joy. 

“But we have to promise that we trust each other and we need to be honest, both of us,” Harry says, his words making Louis take Harry’s hand between his palms. 

“I promise,” Louis says. He brings Harry’s hand to his lips, the softness kissing the tips of Harry’s fingers. They sit in silence, Harry moving a little closer to Louis. They relax against the sofa, the warmth of the room hypnotizing. 

 

“I heard about what you said to Anthony, today. What you suggested,” Harry says quietly, his fingers moving against Louis’ inner wrist. 

“What do you think?” 

“I think it sounds really good. I could see us wearing those suits.” Harry’s light voice makes Louis smile. 

“I know you want to make the day special Louis. I’m sorry I said what I said at the fitting, about the clothes and about the guests and everything.” Harry bends his head to rest it against Louis’ shoulder. 

“I forgive you,” Louis agrees, his hand coming to rest on Harry’s inner thigh. 

 

“While I was out, I actually bought you something.” Harry lifts his head from Louis’ shoulder to reach behind his own back. Louis leans a little forward trying to see the surprise. Harry takes the little blue bag in to his hand and takes out a small, dark velvety box. 

“Remember when we were talking about the rings?” Harry lifts his brows, as he holds the box in his fingers.

“Yeah.” Louis stretches the word. He already knows what’s in the box. And it makes him nervous. It’s all getting so real, it’s not only wedding planning anymore, the wedding is actually coming. 

Harry opens the box, revealing two silver bands. The surface is engraved to make it look a bit more matte, but some parts are clear and shining. The rings are resting against each other. They look like something Louis would pick too.

“They’re beautiful,” Louis says quietly. He isn’t even sure if he said anything out loud. 

“And I got something for you too.” Harry closes the two rings in their box, dropping it back into the bag. He gets out another small blue box, opening it and showing it to Louis. 

“I’ve been feeling a little lonely carrying my ring,” he says, a smile on his lips mixing in his voice. Louis looks at Harry with horrified eyes. He squeezes his hands together as he sees the thin golden ring, identical to Harry’s. 

 

“Are you…?” Louis swallows, unable to finish the sentence. 

“Proposing? I am, even though I guess I already know the answer,” Harry chuckles, taking the ring from the small black cushion. Louis reaches his left hand out, Harry sliding the ring on his finger. He holds Louis’ fingers against his palm, looking at the ring in wonderment. 

“You think we could wear these in public?” Louis asks, his eyes wide. He breathes shallowly, as he feels the weight of the ring in his core. Harry pulls out the necklace on his neck, eyeing the pearl and his counterpart to Louis’ ring. 

He lets go of Louis’ hand to open the lock, separating his golden band from the delicate chain. Louis takes it from his fingers, Harry giving his left hand to Louis. With easiness, he places the golden band on Harry, the moment turning from apologising to something so much more. 

 

“This feels so official now,” Louis chuckles, his eyes wide as he gazes at the rings. 

“We’re officially engaged.” Harry laughs, but his breathing makes it sound like he was coughing. 

“We are.” Louis starts laughing a breathy laugh, his arms pulling Harry in to an embrace. He holds on tight, his face buried into Harry’s neck. 

“Fiancé,” he breathes into Harry’s curls, making Harry giggle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll update on Friday, the 1st of January :)


	5. Excitement

Louis’ mouth is smeared with different types of cake. 

“Open your mouth,” Harry orders with a smile. Louis giggles, his wrists straining against the bounds behind his back. He’s trying to reach some of the earlier cake sample on his cheek with his tongue, but the crumbs fall onto his chest. 

“Don’t turn your face,” Harry says, his hand coming to rest against Louis’ neck, his thumb gentle against his jaw. Harry has a plate in his hand, the different cakes in order. 

He slices a piece with a fork, the white chocolate cake with cream cheese icing looking moist. Louis has his mouth open, his eyes covered with a black, silky sleep mask. Harry is sitting on his lap, testing the possible wedding cakes with Louis. It was his idea to have Louis tied up, it was Louis’ idea to be blindfolded.

 

“When are you going to give me more cake? I want cake!” Louis laughs, as Harry tries to decide what cake he should try first. Either the white chocolate one, or the red velvet with chocolate icing. Louis taps his feet against the floor, making Harry feel like he’s on the back of a horse. 

He decides to go for the red velvet first; it doesn’t seem as sweet because it has blackcurrant jam between the layers. Harry puts a piece into his own mouth. It’s not too sweet, quite nice actually. But there are still eight cake samples to taste; he needs to slow down with the tasting. 

 

“I want ca..!” Louis starts again just as Harry is sticking the cake into his mouth. Only half of the piece ends in Louis’ mouth, the icing sticking to his lips and chin. Harry starts to laugh as Louis tries to find the fork so that he can have the rest of the sample. 

“Thanks a lot,” Louis munches. He tries to keep the cake in his mouth while laughing.

 

“You know, I have more cake on my face than actually in my mouth,” Louis frowns. He tries to lick his lips, but the sweet icing sticks to his tongue. He really isn’t succeeding with getting the different flavours into his mouth. 

Harry sets the plate onto the dining room table so that he has both his hands free. The plate almost knocks over a vase of pastel coloured peonies. The whole table is full of flowers which they have to choose from. 

Harry turns back to Louis after he has secured the position of the cake plate and flowers. He squeezes Louis’ shoulders, tracing his palms over Louis’ arms. 

“I might prefer this part more than the cake,” Louis says quietly, a playful smirk inviting Harry closer. His lips kiss Louis’ cheek and Harry cleans Louis’ face with small licks of his tongue. Louis giggles as Harry starts sucking his lower lip. 

 

“Good cake?” Louis asks when Harry peppers his face with the smallest of kisses. 

“The best,” Harry whispers, his mouth finding its way back to Louis’. He kisses gently, the sweet taste on their taste buds like candy. Harry finds the delicate blackcurrant flavour in Louis’ mouth as he explores it with his tongue. Louis tries to pull his hands free, but the bondage restrains his efforts. 

 

Louis breathes deeply against Harry’s mouth, soft moans escaping into Harry’s mouth. Harry’s hands travel across Louis’ arms, his fingers getting closer to the scarf that keeps Louis from touching Harry. 

He presses his chest against Louis’, his lips lowering to Louis’ shoulder. He kisses Louis’ skin, his collarbone and the tensing and relaxing muscle. His teeth bite down gently, Louis bending his head back slowly. He straightens his legs, his toes curling. 

Harry leans forward to loosen the bonds, Louis finding an escape from the soft fabric. He releases his hands, his palm landing on Harry’s ass with a loud smack. He squeezes hard, the meaty muscle shivering. Harry stands on his tiptoes, his weight lifting from Louis’ lap. Louis’ other hand attaches to Harry’s thigh to keep him still, to keep him firmly straddling his thighs. 

“You don’t want to take the mask off?” Harry asks between biting Louis’ shoulder and kissing his neck. 

“No, I want to keep it on,” Louis breathes into Harry’s ear. He giggles when Harry blows air into his ear, but Louis lets him keep going with the sweet torture. 

 

\- - - -

 

“Your hair smells so good,” Louis points out as he drags his fingers through Harry’s wet curls. The apple scent wafts to his nose, the long strands of hair tangling together. 

“Hmmm,” Harry mumbles, his eyes closed as he lets Louis brush his hair with his fingers. His head becomes heavier on Louis’ thighs the longer he keeps his eyes closed. 

The movie on the TV plays on as both of them closes their eyes on a Wednesday evening. It isn’t even that late, they’ve certainly been up much later than they are right now. Louis thinks they might be getting old. At least it feels like it. Going to sleep at 11 in the evening, that can’t be a good sign, right?

 

“Should we make something to eat, snacks or something?” Louis asks, as he ponders their daily rhythm. It’s like they’re already married; it doesn’t seem like they’ll be getting married in two days. Saturday. That’s the big day. 

They have everything ready, the suits for themselves and clear guidelines for the best men’s suits and the maid of honour’s dresses. Flowers, food, cake, booze. Everything’s ready. Even the after party is planned.

Louis gets nervous just thinking about the day. It has to be perfect, and it will, but the best part is that they will finally tie the knot. They will promise to be together forever. It’s scary to think about it. Harry will be Louis’ last ever kiss, his last ever husband, his last ever everything. He can’t wait for that part to start. 

 

Just as Harry is about to doze off into a sweet dream, the doorbell rings. Harry wakes up with a start, his head turning like he doesn’t know where he is. 

“I’ll get it.” Louis scrambles up from the sofa, leaving Meg Ryan talking to her friend on the phone. Louis drags his feet to the door, his stomach craving something small to eat. 

“Tell who ever it is to leave us alone!” Harry yells from the living room. He sounds like he’s going to fall back to sleep, whether Louis’s there or not. Louis laughs silently, his hand opening the heavy door. 

Behind it stands a group of people, four to be exact. They are all wearing black masks that cover the upper parts of their faces, like they’re going to a masked ball, although their clothes aren’t suitable for a ball. They are all wearing black, the guys in black jeans, the girls in black skirts. 

 

“We’re here to kidnap you both to take you to your stag do!” the group yells enthusiastically. They lift their masks, revealing Niall, Gemma, Liam and Lottie standing on the doorstep. Louis looks at them in shock, his mouth open. 

“Noooo, we were just going to have a quiet night in. We haven’t planned any stag parties or anything,” Louis groans. He can hear Harry whimpering in the living room. 

“We don’t want to go!” Harry answers from the couch. 

“Well it’s not your job to plan the stag do, and yes, you are coming!” Niall walks in, his smile dashing, clearly prepared to have a long night of drinking and whatever they have planned. Liam follows behind, patting Louis on the shoulder.

 

“What’s happened to you? You used to like going out to parties and clubs with Harry.” Lottie hugs her brother, her hair perfectly made as usual. 

“I know! It’s like you’re actually 70 years old,” Gemma laughs, as she hugs Louis after Lottie. Louis shakes his head, closing the door so the cool air won’t invade the warmth. 

“Where’s the other groom?” Liam laughs as he listens to the girls giving Louis a hard time. 

“We really would like to just be, we had a long day at the last suit fitting and going out to see the venue. We’re really tired.” Louis looks at the group with sad eyes. 

 

“Nonsense! Harry!” Niall waves his hand in the air, spotting Harry on the couch. He has dragged a blanket over himself, trying to hide under it. 

“Oh shit! You should’ve said you’re having some sexy times!” Niall hollers when he pulls the blanket away, revealing Harry clad only in black briefs, everyone turning to look at him after Niall’s words. 

“No, no, we were just watching a movie,” Louis giggles rubbing his eyes. 

“Yeah right, now get some clothes on! We’re leaving in five minutes!” 

“You can leave, we’re staying here,” Harry mumbles making the stag do party of four laugh. 

 

“Do I have to drag you to get dressed?” Gemma walks over to her brother, taking his hand in hers and pulling him up. Harry is like a rag doll, limp and looking at Gemma with lazy eyes. 

“Go, go, go! You’ll get dressed or you’ll go wearing only this...” Gemma waves her hand disapprovingly in front of Harry and his bare attire. 

“To your party!” she finishes. 

“But why?” Harry whines. He really doesn’t want to go. Louis walks behind him, draping his arms around Harry’s neck and leaning his chin on his shoulder. 

“Because this is important to us and it will be to you, eventually! And we’ve planned everything!” Lottie comes in to coax the couple. 

“And because you’re now 18 you can also come and drink with us, like you wouldn’t have done it before?” Louis raises his brows at her. 

“Oh please,” she giggles. It’s definitely not her first time drinking with the group. Louis thinks it’s almost special for her to celebrate something like this with them all and actually be able to be one of the adults. Louis sighs against Harry’s shoulder, turning his head towards his fiancé’s cheek. 

 

“What do you think? Should we go?” Louis asks, everyone waiting for their decision with anticipation. 

“Should we?” Harry turns his head towards the blue eyes, craning his neck to see Louis. 

“I think we should. Otherwise we might mummify on this couch,” Louis reasons, nodding his head. 

“Yeah, I think you’re right.” Harry turns his eyes back to the group of people waiting for their answer. 

“Fine! We’ll get dressed,” Harry announces, smirking as Liam, Niall, Lottie and Gemma start laughing and jumping. 

“You’re weird,” Harry says to Gemma, when she cheers. 

“At least I’m not an old grandpa like you,” she counters, making Harry laugh. 

 

The stag do group add the last touches to their planned dares, making sure they have all they need, while Louis and Harry are upstairs getting some clothes on. When they finally come back, they are both wearing tight black jeans, Louis in a dark blue shirt whilst Harry’s in a dark red button up shirt. 

“You’ve even become a grandpa in the clothes department,” Gemma exclaims as she sees Harry. Usually he would have some of the upper buttons undone. This time the collar is like a choker. 

“I thought I’d try something new,” Harry says nonchalantly as Gemma walks over to him. 

“My dear brother. This is your stag night. Don’t be a prude tonight okay?” She looks sincere, Lottie snickering with Niall and Liam at her words. 

Gemma takes a strong hold of Harry’s collar. She gives one mighty tug, four of the buttons opening. A light clicking sounds, as one of the buttons rips off and flies on to the floor. 

“Heeeey!” Harry gives Gemma a shocked look, Louis picking up the button. 

“Sorry.” Gemma only smiles. Harry’s fake annoyance fades away quickly, a wide smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

 

“So? Are we going?” Louis asks, stuffing the loose button from Harry’s shirt in his jeans pocket. 

“Yes! But before that, we have to give you something so that you don’t draw too much attention tonight.” Lottie smiles to the nervous couple. 

“You’re actually going to take us somewhere public?” Louis points his finger at the group. 

“Of course! It wouldn’t be a stag do without some risky dares now, would it?” Niall points out, a cheeky grin on his face. Louis smiles and rolls his eyes, Harry clutching onto his hand. 

 

“Here, put these on. There’s a cab waiting for us outside so we can get started.” Lottie pulls out similar black ball masks from her purse and hands them to Louis and Harry. They put them on, Harry the first one to walk in front of the hallway mirror to make sure he looks ok. He fixes the mask for Louis when he comes to tug Harry’s fingers. 

“Ready?” Liam asks, pulling his own mask on from the top of his head. Louis is already putting on his shoes, Harry choosing his boots. 

“What do you think? The brown or the black?” he asks Lottie, as she is standing the closest to him. 

“I’d say the black ones. They go well with your jeans.” She nods her head, thought in her voice. Harry picks the boots from the shoe rack. He puts them on, Lottie inspecting the result with her head tilted. 

“Are we ready now?” Liam asks again, clearly anticipating the night to start already. Harry and Louis stand next to each other like two children ready to go on a school trip to the zoo. They nod, smiles etching both of their faces. They mumble nervous yes’s and hold each other’s hands. 

“Excellent!” Niall’s accent is strong, as if he’s already drank a whole bottle of tequila. 

 

The group walks outside, Harry the last one to get through the door. He checks he has the keys, patting his pockets in the darkness of the evening. He hears Louis gasping at something, his laughter filling Harry’s hears. The joyous sound makes Harry turn around, and he sees why Louis got so excited. 

“A cab! A cab! That’s not a cab!” Louis laughs, his frisky steps leading him to the black stretched limo. Harry looks at the car on their drive way with wide eyes, Gemma taking his hand in hers. 

“We thought we’d make this evening as special as it can be,” she whispers in Harry’s ear, giving a light kiss on his cheek. Harry turns his eyes to her, happy tears trying to form in the corners. 

“Don’t cry. Maybe you’ll cry later but it’s not time for that yet.” She hugs Harry by his waist in her arms. The hug is short and sweet, but it has so much meaning behind it, that Harry holds onto the feeling for a little while longer. 

 

The group squeezes into the limo, everyone having plenty of room to themselves. Gemma and Lottie sit together, Niall and Liam sitting opposite from them. Harry and Louis take the back seat, almost sitting in each other’s laps. Lottie hands them plastic cups with some sparkly drink. 

“To the best big brother and his amazing fiancé! To Louis and Harry!” She cheers, the party raising their cups in the air and yelling nonsense before taking mighty sips of the liquid. 

 

“One question though,” Louis wonders out loud, rolling the dry taste of the champagne on his tongue. Everyone turn their eyes on him, waiting for the question. 

“If I’m your best big brother, who’s your worst big brother?” Everyone looks at him, waiting for an explanation. 

“Or have I just hit my head?” Louis carries on, Harry bursting out laughing. 

“Oh my gosh, Harry’s jokes have really caught onto you, because that really has to be the worst joke you’ve ever told. It wasn’t even funny.” Lottie purses her lips together, everyone giggling at her words but Louis. He looks at her, sticking his tongue out. 

“I don’t think it was that bad. You’re still the funniest guy in my world,” Harry fonds, leaning against Louis’ shoulder. 

He presses his lips against the corner of Louis’ mouth. Louis lifts his chin up, his lips lightly smiling. He looks like a content hedgehog with his hair sticking out cutely. Liam makes gagging noises as he looks at the happy couple, laughing at them when Harry’s green eyes glare in his direction through the mask. 

 

The limo drives them around London, a bottle of champagne emptying, the second opening quickly. The cork explodes into the tight space of the limo, high shrieks escaping from everyone’s mouths. The cups fill again and again, a happy buzz landing on everyone’s brain neurons. 

Harry keeps on kissing Louis’ face, his hot breath tickling Louis’ ear. Louis has his arm around Harry, bringing him closer so that he’s actually sitting on Louis’ lap. 

The other four gaze at the loved up twosome, trying to keep up the conversation so that Harry can keep up with his kisses and Louis can pretend that he isn’t half hard. 

 

“Oi! Love birds! First stop’s here!” Niall hollers, his voice booming inside the car. Harry’s tipsy eyes look at Niall happily. 

They leave their cups in the car, some of them a bit unstable to stay upright. But the group still leaves the warmth of the car, the limo’s door being shut behind them. 

“So what are we going to do exactly?” Louis asks, his hand holding Harry’s loosely. They stand in the line outside for a while, people flowing in and coming out. 

“In this bar your challenge is to drink six shots. The one who downs them the quickest, wins,” Niall announces. He sounds like a game show host. Harry listens to him intently, his pulse racing as he understands it’s a game. They are next in line to get in, the bouncer directing people where to go. 

“Let’s go!” Liam orders. He walks in first. Lottie shows her ID quickly to the doorman so she won’t be left alone on the street, waiting for the party group to get back into the car. 

 

The bar is small and dark. It’s full of people talking with each other and drinking different concoctions. Music is playing loudly, but not too loudly. The melody is drowned by people speaking anyway. 

Gemma goes to get the drinks, Liam looking for a booth for them to sit in. The music certainly makes everything a bit blurry, when people are talking over it. Harry can pick up different types of laughs and conversations, a word here and a joke there being thrown between people. The sounds create a sea of noise. 

Finally they find a round table. Gemma squeezes into the tight circle, placing a tray in the middle of the table. Six small glasses filled with different drinks stand in front of Harry and Louis. They take in the sight. Louis rubs his hands together, Harry smells the shots. 

 

“Wait! What’s the prize?” Louis asks, his eyes full of glee. The dim lights are making galaxies form in his excited blue gaze. 

“You’ll see!” Gemma teases. 

“Okay! The first one who drinks them all wins! Ready!” Gemma talks loudly over the music. Lottie bops her head to the beat, her smile lighting up the room. 

“Set!” Gemma eyes the competitors. Harry glances at Louis from the corner of his eye, seeing Louis’ hands over the drinks ready to get to them quickly. 

“Go!” Gemma claps her hands together. 

 

Louis is the first one to get a drink down, his face showing he is pleasantly surprised by the flavour. Harry’s sour look makes Niall laugh. 

“Get one of the good ones!” Niall shouts, as he is trying to get Harry to drink at the same pace as Louis. But Harry suffers through four strong shots, his eyes squeezing shut, his mouth in a grimace. Louis still has three drinks to go, when Harry gets finished with the ones that he doesn’t like. 

Louis really tries to get the bad ones down, his bravery clear in his eyes. Harry gets a sweet shot in his hand, gulping it down like it was water. His smiley face and the side glance to Louis’ unfinished shots tell him that he made a good decision by drinking the worst ones first. 

 

The rest of the group around the table clap their hands, their mouths shouting encouragement. Harry drinks his last drink. He throws his hands up in the air, his chin high as he takes a stroll around the table. Louis is in the middle of swallowing his last shot, his whole face twisting in disgust. 

“We have a winner!” Gemma announces, her hand grabbing Harry’s. He feels like a winner of a boxing match as he gets cheers from their group and some people who were near enough to follow their little game. He smiles and shakes Louis’ hand. 

“Good game,” Harry says, Louis’ watery eyes stinging as he tries to keep his disappointment down. 

 

“For the winner we have a special prize!” Niall almost jumps in his spot. Lottie opens her purse, the little thing seeming bottomless. She gets out a black sash. She hands it to Gemma, who opens it and with gentle hands she places it on Harry’s other shoulder. She fixes it to go neatly onto his hip and rising on his back without any creases. 

Harry tries to read the white text on the black base but his spinning eyes can’t focus on the letters. Louis turns him around to see what the pageant ribbon says. 

“Prince of the curls,” Louis reads out loud, his feet swaying and his giggles filling the small space between him and Harry. 

“Do you have another for me, if I had won?” Louis asks, his whole body turning to Lottie. 

“Of course!” She smiles, closing her purse with a snap. 

“What does it say?” Lottie walks to Louis, whispering the words, “the one with the cheekbones” in his ear. Louis watches her eyes glint in the dim lighting, a small smile spreading to his lips. He can feel his cheeks heating, his hand reaching towards Harry’s and entwining with Harry’s fingers. 

“Okay! Let’s go! We still have a long night ahead!” Liam orders, leading them out. Gemma takes Lottie’s hand so she won’t get left behind. They stumble back into the limo, especially Harry and Louis who have lost the control of their feet. 

 

\- -

 

“What are we doing here?” Harry asks, sipping his brightly coloured drink from a tall glass. He feels like the mask on his face will fall down over his nose and to his chin. He tries to hold onto it and still keep drinking. He feels a great buzz in his head, the drinks flowing naturally. 

Louis sees him struggling with the drink and the mask. Without words he rests his own drink on the table and helps Harry by tightening the ribbon behind his head. 

“Just keep on drinking. We’ll tell you soon enough what you have to do.” Liam winks his eye behind his black mask. Harry keeps on drinking happily, knowing that the next challenge will be something that needs him and Louis to be pretty tipsy. 

Louis settles back next to Harry, drinking his vodka and lemonade. Gemma and Lottie are dancing with Niall next to the others, coming up with dance moves that are straight from the seventies disco era. 

 

“Have you finished?” Liam asks, Harry and Louis nod in unison. Gemma starts giggling, Lottie looking at her in wonder. Gemma whispers something into her ear, Lottie’s laughter bubbling out of her throat high and happy. 

“What?” Louis asks, looking at the girls. 

“You have to sing a song,” Liam orders, bursting out laughing. 

“Alone?” Louis’ mouth twists in horror. 

“No,” Niall moves his mouth exaggeratingly slowly. 

“Harry will join you,” Liam continues. Niall keeps on dancing to some song that is playing too loudly. 

 

“Can we choose the song?” Harry asks. He is so ready to sing. It’s almost odd how much he wants to sing in this bar. Maybe it’s the drinks, maybe it’s just that he is feeling a bit wild and that makes him want to sing for some unexplainable reason. 

“No,” Niall says again. 

“What are we singing then?” Louis’ heart is leaping in his chest, nerves building in his stomach. Harry takes Louis’ hand into his, squeezing it lightly. Liam comes closer, asking them to lean closer. He whispers the song into their ears, Louis jumping backwards after hearing it. Harry grins, turning to look at Louis enthusiastically. 

 

“Are you serious?” Louis exclaims. He can’t believe they have to sing that song.

“We might not even know the lyrics!” Louis tries to save the situation, but Liam only smiles slyly. 

“You do know the lyrics though. We’ve heard you sing it,” Liam counters back, shooing Louis and Harry towards the front of the bar. He catches the attention of the bartender, giving him a double thumbs up. 

“This is our song!” Louis hisses into Harry’s ear, trying to stop them. But he knows Harry will not turn around. That’s Harry drunk, he’ll be funny and out there, not backing away. 

“It’ll still be our song. Now we just aren’t in our underwear or naked,” Harry smirks, pulling Louis with him. 

 

The lights go dim, silence falling over the crowd in the bar. People start cheering, some booing mixed into the noise as music stops playing. The record starts playing, the intro rapping to the crowd. 

People recognize the song instantly, cheering and trying to see what’s happening. Harry and Louis stand by the bar with their backs towards the people. Louis is psyching himself up, Harry already popping his hips. 

The man in the intro raps the first few lines, which makes Louis want to run away. He has to do this in front of people! He has only danced or rapped this song with Harry, not in public. This song does bring up some hot moments – it really isn’t clever to rap this in front of others. Hopefully the mask will conceal his true self.

 

The song makes Gemma nervous to actually see what his brother has been doing to the song. Once she heard Harry and Louis singing it backstage in their own room. They sounded very out of breath and Gemma is pretty scared what is in store for the people watching. 

The music starts, Louis and Harry popping their arse to the rhythm. Lottie starts laughing like a crazy person. 

The couple are leaning forward, almost twerking to the familiar song. Every pair of eyes are watching the couple, getting ready to dance as they are already singing along. Louis and Harry jump around when the bridge starts and the lights flash blindingly. 

 

“By the way, what he say? He can tell I ain't missing no meals. Come through and fuck 'em in my automobile.” They rap over the music, both of their cheeks red from singing the song in public. People in the bar almost scream the lyrics out loud with the couple, dancing and going crazy. Harry laughs but keeps on rapping. They sway their hips, doing suggestive hand movements. 

“So I pulled up in the Jag, and I hit 'em with the jab like…” Louis yells, the crowd answering with an ear booming “Dun-d-d-dun-dun-d-d-dun-dun” 

“My Anaconda don't...” Harry begins, raising his hand into, making a whipping movement. 

“My Anaconda don't...” Louis answers, as the crowd in the bar cheer around the two. 

“My Anaconda don't want none unless you got buns hun!” Harry yells, pointing at Louis’ arse. Louis is really getting into the rhythm, his feet moving him closer to Harry. 

 

“Oh my gosh, look at my butt.” The crowd goes wild dancing to the rude song. Everyone yells the lyrics out, the air turning humid from the sweating. 

The DJ turns the volume up as the cheering and rapping almost drown the music. The song goes on, Louis grinding his arse against Harry’s crotch. Niall and Liam are dancing together, Gemma and Lottie watching their brothers going wild. Gemma holds her hand in front of her mouth so people don’t see her shocked expression. 

 

“My Anaconda don't want none unless you got buns hun!” Harry tries to rap, his laughter making it sound more ridiculous than it should be. He slaps his hands down against Louis’ hips, their arses rolling together to the beat. 

People are high from the song, cheering and dancing until their singing has turned into a panting mess. Niall and Liam turn to the girls, dancing with them but not as wildly as Harry and Louis. They keep an eye on the couple as they keep on going until the song comes to an end. 

 

The huge crowd cheers, the last notes dying down into the noise. Without ceremony Harry and Louis walk back to their group, Harry blushing fiercely. 

Louis slaps his arse gently, flashing Harry a smile when he turns his eyes to Louis. The song changes to something more subtle. People lose their interest as everything ends, going back to drinking and conversing. 

 

“Good enough?” Louis asks out of breath. He hugs Lottie against his chest, his sister laughing. 

“More than good!” Niall exclaims, his smile brighter than the lights in the bar. 

“Let’s go!” Liam tells them. He has taken the role of the captain of this night, leading them in and out of bars. 

Harry pulls Louis in to a bear hug, lifting him up. Louis drapes his legs around Harry’s hips, Harry’s hands digging into his arse. Harry feels liberated and confident, his hands not shying away from Louis. Harry carries him outside following the others into their car and more drinking. 

 

\- -

 

“What’s next?” Harry yells in the small space of the limo. Laughter is booming all around, it feels like people on the outside are laughing too. Everyone’s laughing, the whole world is blooming with laughter and joy. And it could also be the champagne and the drinks. But everyone is still having a great time, at least in this limo. 

“We’re actually here,” Gemma giggles. Harry is practically on Louis’ lap. His drink spills from the cup in his hand and splashes onto Louis’ shirt and Harry’s jeans. 

“Meaning?” Harry looks like a confused teddy bear. Lottie says it out loud, but only so silently that Louis on her side can hear her say it. They laugh gently, Louis patting Harry’s curls. 

 

“Meaning that you two are going to play a round of rock paper scissors.” Gemma sets her cup onto the floor making sure it doesn’t tip over. She crawls in front of her brother and Louis. Harry sits up, their drink filled cups taken from their hands. 

“Three rounds. The winner gets to stay in the limo,” Gemma announces, sitting on her knees. She smiles, her hands resting on her lap. Harry and Louis turn to each other, their hands forming fists between each other.

“On three!” Gemma announces. Harry takes in a deep breath. His hand shaking slowly from the drinks he has drunk. Louis smiles victoriously, his hand firmly ready to make the first move. 

“Wait, wait, wait! You didn’t tell us what the loser has to do,” Harry’s wavering voice cracks. 

“You’ll find that out in no time,” Gemma smiles, her eyes closing with the wide smirk. 

“Ready?” Gemma asks. Harry gulps, but nods with Louis. 

 

“Rock, paper, scissors,” they all chant lowly. The car keeps on driving, the movement indicating that they are moving in a circle. Harry’s hand shakes as it flattens out to be a paper against’ Louis’ scissors. 

“Woooooo!” Louis cheers, his hands flying up and hitting the roof. 

“Are you okay?” Harry says, scared of the loud bang Louis’ knuckles make against the soft plastic fabric. 

“Yeah, yeah, next round,” Louis smiles, getting ready for the next game. His knee is against Harry’s, his blue eyes blazing. Harry can almost hear Louis’ brain chanting cheers for himself. 

 

“Rock, paper, scissors,” they all chant again, Louis mimicking a rock, Harry doing paper again. He wraps his hand around Louis’ fist, Harry’s smile dashing as he wins the second round. 

“Last time.” Louis shakes his head, disappointed as he loses. 

“You know you could just give up now.” Harry wiggles his brows and winks at Louis. Louis scoffs, rolls his eyes and smiles dearly at Harry. 

 

“Last round!” Gemma tries to keep the game going. Harry breathes all the air from his lungs, psyching himself up to win the game. Louis rolls his shoulders once, his posture straightening. 

“Rock, paper, scissors,” the whole group says louder. Harry sees his and Louis’ hands moving in slow motion, their fists pumping the air three times. 

Harry sees how Louis hesitates to decide what he should go with, but he settles with paper. His hand flattens out, Harry seeing his own hand staying in a fist. He was supposed to do scissors! But here he is sitting with his hand squeezed into a fist. 

Louis starts to cheer at himself, Lottie hugging him with her hand wrapped around his shoulder. 

 

“Better luck some other time,” Gemma pats Harry’s knee, giving him a sad smile. 

“Just tell me what I have to do,” Harry sighs, getting his drink into his hand and finishing it all. The alcohol doesn’t really seem to be there anymore. Too much champagne will apparently be Harry’s end tonight. 

Gemma stands up from the floor. She moves bent over like she’s really old. She sways with the car, her hands finding a canvas bag. She gets something black in her hands and takes it to Harry.

“You have to wear this.” She drapes it over Harry’s shoulders, tying the cape with a cute little bow. Harry tries to reach over his shoulder to see if there’s something written on the back. He can distinguish white letters, but he can’t see what the letters spell. 

“And…” Gemma reaches her hand out to Niall, who gives her a small bag. It looks like something out of a movie where magicians would pop bunnies out of hats. 

“You can open this when you’re at Piccadilly Circus.” She offers the bag to Harry, who takes it reluctantly. He shakes it, the contents of the bag making small rattling sounds. 

 

“And what do I do at Piccadilly Circus? What if someone recognises me?” 

“You’re going to give one piece of the content to a couple that seem to be suitable to… Own this piece.” Gemma thinks her words through, giggling when she keeps the things in the bag a secret. 

“No one will recognise you, you’re wearing a mask! And we’re going to be there too, we’re just going to be sitting in this limo.” Niall smiles, drinking from his cup. 

 

“Do I have to go alone?” Harry asks, the car coming to a halt. 

“I can come with you! I can carry the bag, you can do the business whatever that will be,” Louis announces, taking the bag from Harry. 

“Fine by us! Stay safe!” Liam hollers, Harry opening the door and stepping outside with Louis following closely behind. 

 

“Look at them go.” Gemma stalks the boys from the window. She is holding onto the door, Lottie, Niall and Liam peering from behind her. Niall is sipping his drink like it’s water. 

“Oh my gosh! They’re opening the bag!” Lottie gushes, her light, alcohol filled laughter creating a misty spot on the window. They can see Harry throwing his head back, the cape on his back swaying in the winter wind. Louis is doubled up and laughing his heart out. 

“Awwww!” Liam coos, his hands on Gemma’s shoulders. Louis takes Harry’s hand into his and leads them to the first couple. 

Louis digs in the bag for a second, whipping out a single wrapped condom while Harry is talking with the couple. The couple look at the men in horror, the girl taking the condom with crimson coloured cheeks. They seem like a young couple, but not younger than 18. 

“Young love,” Niall whispers.

All their eyes follow Harry and Louis as they give condoms to couples from every walk of life. An elderly couple smile at the boys, the lady pinching Harry’s cheek and patting Louis’ hair. In no time they have given out the thirty condoms that were in the bag. Harry almost runs back to the car, Louis following and holding on to the cape. 

 

“It wasn’t that bad!” Gemma smiles, Harry handing her the black fabric from his shoulders. He reads the white print on the back, ‘Husband-to-be’ written in bold font. Maybe it’s good that the cape was there telling people that he wasn’t some weird creepy perv who just for fun wanted to give out condoms. 

“Please tell us we are going to a bar next?” Louis gives the empty small bag to Gemma, who stuffs it in the same canvas bag with the cape. 

“Oh why? You didn’t like keeping people safe?” Gemma looks at him innocently, her eyes wide like a deer. 

“Of course I did, but I’m bloody cold” Louis snarls through his teeth. He holds onto his arms, trying to rub them to create warmth. Harry tugs Louis under his arm as new drinks are handed to them. 

“Well lucky for you, we are going to a bar,” Liam confirms. Louis cheers with a small voice, huddled next to Harry’s side like a small animal. 

 

\- -

 

“What!” Louis yells over the pounding music. Niall is laughing at his confused face, his hand on Louis’ shoulder as he tries not to fall over. 

“Whenever I say ‘drinks’, you have to yell ‘I’m Peter Pan’ from the top of your lungs,” Niall manages to say into Louis’ ear. 

“You have to be kidding me!” Louis’ eyes flash as the blue and red laser lights travel across the room with the music. People are jumping and dancing and sweating and having the greatest time on the dance floor. 

The stag do group is huddled around a small round table, a tray of different drinks crowding the surface. Harry is dancing with Lottie and Gemma, twirling them and messing up their hair. Lottie is holding onto Harry’s arm, tightly keeping her up so her drunk brain won’t sweep her off her feet. 

 

“Nope! I promise, this is the last thing we’ll make you do in public,” Niall smiles mischievously, firmly squeezing Louis’ shoulder. Louis’ mouth hangs open, not really sure what he should think. He isn’t sure if he even heard Niall right. 

His head is all blurry, his limbs the heaviest he has felt them in a while. Luckily he is still standing and not passing out under the table. 

“People! Let’s drink these drinks!” Niall gives Louis a pointed look, handing him one of the last small glasses. The liquid is bright pink, probably also extremely sweet. 

 

The unfortunate thing is that the melody stops just as Louis fills his lungs, everything dimming down. People are waiting for the bass to drop, hearing the music echoing in the speakers. 

The DJ holds his hand in the air, veiling the expecting group of people with tension. The whole room holds their breaths, Louis knowing he can’t stop now. 

“I am Peter Pan!” Louis yells in the silence, every pair of eyes turning on him. The bass drops, Louis exhaling the rest of the air in his lungs. 

The lights flicker so quickly, that when the people jump up with the bass, everything goes black. When the lights come back on, everyone’s already back on their feet and dancing crazy. Everything moves in jagged motion, the blinking lights raising Louis’ skin with goose bumps. 

He realizes that the people around their little table are folded over, Niall holding Louis’ hand. Louis finds Harry standing tall, his head thrown back as he laughs inaudibly in the loud music. Seeing Harry enjoying himself so much spreads a smile onto Louis’ lips. He can’t turn his eyes away from Harry, who is taking care of Louis’ and his own sister and having so much joy bursting through him. It blinds Louis more that the lights in the club. 

 

“This is going to be fun!” Niall leans onto Louis’ shoulder and says the words into his ear. Liam shakes Louis’ shoulders, his smiling face like a sun in the dark club. 

“Drinks!” Niall yells, Louis’ smile faltering off his face. 

“I’m Peter Pan!” he still yells, the music covering his voice. He turns to see Harry’s smile to be reassured that this is actually fun. And everything has been fun. Louis just feels so odd to be somewhere public and not hiding. Well he is hiding behind a mask, but he is still there and anyone could realise who he actually is.

 

Louis tries to find Harry smiling on the other side of their little table, but to his surprise Harry isn’t standing there anymore. Louis peers around the crowds as Liam and Niall down their shots. 

“Where did they go?” His mouth words his thoughts, his hand nudging Liam’s shoulder. 

“What? Who?” Liam clinks the glass in his hand on to the table, the glass falling over on the black round tray. 

“Harry. And Lottie. And Gemma.” For some reason Louis’ heart starts to beat uncomfortably. He has to know where they are. They would’ve told him, Niall and Liam if they are going somewhere. But they didn’t tell anyone where they would be going. Liam starts to look around as well, Niall twisting and turning to find the rest of their group. 

 

“Where the hell are they?!” Louis yells, this time not caring if someone hears him. His eyes can’t settle on anything because of the flickering lights and his simple drunk mind. 

“There!” Niall points towards the dance floor and up. Louis follows Niall’s hand, seeing a group of three getting onto a platform. He stares hard to focus on the people and when he manages, it really is Harry and the girls. 

Harry is helping Lottie to get up on to the platform, Gemma following them. Harry helps her to stand up, their bodies first swaying to the beat of the music. Harry picks up the rhythm quickly, his swaying turning into dancing and throwing his head back and enjoying his time at the centre of people’s attention. 

Other party goers are watching the three dancing, Lottie and Gemma moving together. Harry throws his hair back wildly, his hands up in the air and bending behind his head. He isn’t afraid to do whatever he wants. Harry is just being Harry. 

 

Louis watches Harry, enchanted. It’s because of the drinks too, but it’s also because he gets to be with that man. 

He saw Harry grow up, he saw Harry realising who he is. Louis saw Harry fall in love with him and Harry saw Louis fall for him. They grew up together! It’s a weird moment to understand this, to think these things even though they are in the back of Louis’ head all the time. 

He was only 18 when he first met Harry. He never thought he could meet someone so special. And here he is, going to marry that special person in his life. He could never let Harry go, he could never love anyone like he loves Harry. It makes him ecstatic to know that Harry is his and he is Harry’s.

 

Louis rarely believes in destiny or other crap. But he is fairly certain that it wasn’t just by chance that he met Harry. He is so much more than just a boy from a toilet. Harry is magic. 

Harry is that unicorn in Louis’ life that he never thought he could meet. He needed that magic and now he gets to live and be and breathe magic. He isn’t afraid to share the rest of his life with Harry. No. 

Louis is so certain of his love for Harry that it’s painful. He would like to burst out with happiness and other magical creatures just because of Harry. He is everything in Louis’ life. 

 

Harry dances on the platform, leaning to the steel railing and hanging from it and shaking his whole body out to the music. He is alive from the music, almost like someone would’ve switched the lights on inside of him. 

 

He is just radiating something that no one could have in this club, or on the street, or anywhere. Harry is so much more than just a pretty shell or the person he is inside. He is something out of this world and Louis’ can’t explain it. He loves that he can’t explain it. 

Harry is someone who he gets to know better every day even though they’ve been together for so long already. Louis has just seen a molecule of who Harry really is, he still doesn’t know Harry thoroughly. Louis can’t wait to figure out Harry for the rest of his life. 

 

“Louis! Drinks!” Niall and Liam both yell. Their eyes glint behind their masks, knowing that Louis must’ve been in his own world where only he and Harry exist.

“Peter Pan! I’m Peter Pan!” Louis yells, borderline screams. The music dims out again, the space picking out only Louis’ voice in the club. 

People turn to look at him again, but the only thing that keeps Louis from not shying away is Harry. There he is, Louis’ own unicorn, on the platform, watching Louis with the brightest smile. 

 

Harry presses his right hand against his lips, blowing the kiss to Louis. He wiggles his fingers in the air, almost like he could send the kiss with some fairy dust. Louis catches the kiss, pressing it to his mouth. 

Harry laughs, the music pouring over the dancing crowd again. Louis laughs with him, only imagining the bubbly giggling sounds Harry makes before he starts dancing again. 

 

“Maybe we should just let him stare,” Liam says quietly into Niall’s ear. 

“You’re right, we could never get him out of that trance,” Niall agrees, the two watching on as Louis can’t tear his eyes off of Harry. 

 

\- -

 

“Where are you taking us?” Louis mutters, his hand holding Harry’s tightly. His blindfolded eyes can’t see anything, but at least he is now free of the mask. His feet stumble up on stairs, Liam steadying him from his hips. 

Harry’s fingers squeeze Louis’ hand in rhythmic beats, as he is led by Lottie. Gemma went somewhere earlier, leaving the rest of the group in the limo to get Louis and Harry ready for the last thing they had planned. 

“I don’t want to drink anymore,” Harry mutters in front of Louis. His steps are lazy, Louis can hear them dragging against the stairs. 

 

“Just a few steps left,” Lottie tells the two blindfolded men. Niall keeps their hands joined by holding them together. Louis can feel the wind get a little stronger, a little cooler. 

It was a bad decision to leave home without a jacket, but he never thought he’d be climbing up stairs outside. He thought they’d be huddled in some bars and clubs and drinking the night away. 

The city noises are distant, cars beeping to each other somewhere far away. He can’t see anything under the black scarf that covers his eyes. 

 

“Where are we go-o-o…” Harry stumbles forwards, his hand never leaving Louis’. Lottie keeps him up and makes sure he steadies his feet. 

Louis’ heart beats harder, his fingers dragging against the sash on Harry’s hip and landing on Harry’s ass, digging into his jeans back pocket. 

“You alright?” Louis stammers out, his head finally catching up with his drinking. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Harry assures, his voice out of breath as if he’d gotten a bit frightened too. Harry takes the steps bravely, Louis’ fingers knowing every move he will make. He feels how Harry’s muscles strain and release as he works his way up the stairs. 

 

“This is the last one,” Lottie says. Harry takes the last step, Lottie positioning him so Louis can stand next to him. They are still holding hands, Louis on Harry’s left. 

“Wow,” Niall sighs next to the blindfolded couple. Everything is extremely silent except for some sounds you can’t get away from in London. 

“It looks really pretty, Gemma,” Liam agrees. 

“What looks beautiful? We want to see too!” Harry says, his hand holding on to Louis’ more tightly. His fingers are cold but his palm is warm and clammy. 

“Okay, help them out of the blindfolds,” Gemma says somewhere further away. 

 

Someone grabs Louis’ blindfold at the back of his head, untying the ends. 

“Hopefully you brought your swimsuit with you,” Gemma smiles, Louis’ eyes blind for a moment. 

His sight gets used to the warm light quickly, the lights against the black sky beautiful. The lightbulbs are like little planets over the steaming rooftop pool. The turquoise water vibrates in the small wind, the surface rippling with small movement. 

The pool is lined with bunches of candles in glass jars, smaller and bigger lights warming the rooftop with their flames. The city is living somewhere out there, the lights from other buildings creating a skyline he hasn’t seen in a while. 

“What do you think?” Gemma asks as she stands on the other side of the pool. She is clearly proud of her decorating skills, her hands on her hips and a wide smile on her face. Louis looks at Harry’s face, who is trying to see everything in one go. He is trying to put his thoughts in to words, but his mouth moves without sound. 

“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” Louis says to her, his eyes wondering away from Harry and watching everything around. 

Harry’s hand squeezes Louis, his eyes wanting attention when Louis turns his sight to Harry. He smiles that deep dimpled smile when his eyes are filled with stars and he glows that magic which makes Louis question if his life is actually real. 

If he’s about to wake up and realise that he doesn’t know anyone named Harry, that he isn’t with anyone named Harry. That his whole life has just been a sweet dream of love and something so out of this world that he could never believe it was true. 

Louis doesn’t know what reality is anymore. If it’s a dream; a dream that he’s been dreaming for too long and has created a vision standing right next to him. Or if his life is nothing but ordinary, a life where dreams don’t exist. It’s a scary thought for Louis. 

 

But when Louis turns his eyes back to Harry, he doesn’t wake up from a dream. He doesn’t lose the images in his head, they aren’t made up by his imagination. 

It’s all real, right around him, right next to him. Louis’ dream is holding his hand and smiling and seeing this place as the eight wonder on this earth. Harry, that’s Louis’ wonder on this earth. 

Louis leans his body against Harry’s arm, his both hands holding on to him. Harry’s cheek lands against Louis’ forehead, his eyes falling shut. They stand there, absorbing the quietness and the warm lights. 

 

“I guess they love it,” Niall says loudly, the others laugh quietly as Louis and Harry keep on basking in their blissful state of mind. 

“Well umm, there’s water and towels and we can swim as much as we like,” Gemma informs. 

Lottie is the first one to approach the pool and take a bottle of water in her hands. Liam and Niall follow behind, Gemma getting undressed into her dark blue bikini. 

She folds her clothes, sitting down on the edge of the pool. She tests the water with her feet, her gentle smile telling it’s perfectly warm. She lowers herself into the water, swimming to the other side to meet Lottie, Niall and Liam. She gets her own water bottle, the group talking quietly. 

 

“Should we go there, too?” Louis asks, his eyes staying shut. The cool wind blowing around the pool doesn’t bother him anymore. He feels like he’s in bed, covered with a thick duvet, Harry hugging him in the warmth. 

“Maybe we should, but I don’t want to move,” Harry whispers, his feet swaying slightly. 

His movement makes Louis sway with him, almost like they’re dancing to some song that is only playing in their heads. Louis opens his eyes to see the group of four staring at him and Harry, their smiles warmer than the lights. 

“Let’s go Harry, let’s go swimming,” Louis says, separating from Harry’s arm but keeping his hand attached to Harry’s. He walks them to the others, Lottie giving them a bottle of water to share. 

 

“Did you plan this together?” Harry is still amazed at what Gemma has done to the rooftop. 

“Of course, but the girls were in charge of the decorations. They already had a vision in mind when me and Niall were thinking about different challenges for the official stag party,” Liam tells proudly, his arms around Niall’s and Lottie’s shoulders. 

“And we don’t want this to be too mellow, tonight can’t end in people falling asleep on each other.” Niall looks pointedly at Harry, who is hovering like he is going to curl next to the pool, close his eyes and give in to the sleep. Louis nudges Harry’s shoulder with his head, a lazy smile spreading to Harry’s lips. 

“What do you have in mind then?” Louis asks, taking a sip of his water. It feels so nice to have something else other than alcohol running down his throat. He doesn’t feel the burn or the intoxicating haze the drink would bring along with the alcohol.

 

Liam drops his arms from Niall’s and Lottie’s shoulders, his feet moving him away from them. Louis looks at him with his brows high up to the sky, but Niall’s voice brings him back to the conversation. 

“Well we thought we could all swim tonight, that’s one of the reasons why we have this place for ourselves. And second…” Niall looks really professional as he explains the reasons to the couple. 

The second Niall finishes talking, Louis feels a strong push against his back, his feet stumbling forward. His reflexes push his chest and hips to go first, his hand sticking to Harry’s even tighter than in the stairs. 

Louis takes the last step and doesn’t feel the edge of the pool under his foot anymore, a terrified shriek escaping from his throat. Louis takes a shallow breath in, closing his eyes just in time when his body falls in to the water. Harry’s voice follows him in to the pool. Like a magnet, he falls after Louis. 

 

Harry’s arms find Louis’ body, his torso drowning Louis deeper in to the water. Louis keeps his mouth and eyes closed. He has no clue how close to the surface he is. Harry’s hands and weight are holding him down, but suddenly the weight turns in to a pull, Harry’s arms lifting Louis up and over the surface. 

Louis gasps for air, his eyes opening and searching for the edge. For some reason they are much further from the rest of the group. They are laughing and clapping their hands together. The water makes the sound rumble around the rooftop, it could almost fall amongst the sounds of the city. 

 

Before Louis can start swimming towards the others, a smile on his face, the buzzing in his brain a mix of horror and joy, Harry grabs his arm and spins him around in the warm water. His green eyes are wide, his eyelashes dripping wet. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice slurring fast. 

“Yeah, I’m good. You? I pulled you in...” Louis shakes his head, his smile shaking off too. He lifts his hands on to Harry’s cheeks, Harry’s hand still attached to Louis’ arm. 

“You’re more drunk than I am. So are you really okay? You don’t seem okay?” Louis stares in to Harry’s eyes, the two green sparkles forming in to four. 

“Louis, I can’t actually understand what you’re saying.” Harry leans forward, his forehead coming to rest against Louis’. 

“Why not?” Louis voice breaks out. 

“You’re so drunk that your words aren’t coming out really well.” Harry giggles, his lips finding the corner of Louis’ eye. 

“Nooo, you’re wrrrong!” Louis smiles, hearing himself speak. 

The drunk words splutter together and sound like he’d be deep asleep. Maybe it was the water or something else, but he feels like it’d be the first time he hears himself speak tonight. His head feels alert though, so Louis only laughs, his hands wrapping around Harry’s shoulders to bring him in to a hard hug. 

 

“Good that we have water to drink!” Gemma yells to the couple as they keep on hugging in the middle of the pool. 

Their heads turn at the same time to look at the small group waiting to see what the two are going to do next. A silly smile comes alive on both of their faces, their lips mirroring each other to look almost identical. Gemma shakes her head, the others bursting out laughing. 

 

The night listens to their laughter throughout the hours, time losing its meaning. Candles burn out, the sky turning from deep black to deep blue and finally starts to fade in to a cold sunrise. 

The voices die down as the sky gets lighter, finally the tiredness and the drinking coming back with a vengeance. Harry‘s towel covered body is huddled against Louis’. They are watching London waking up, Niall snoring lightly next to Louis on his other side. Liam, Lottie and Gemma are also sleeping, a couple of towels covering their swimsuit clad bodies. 

 

“This was the best way to celebrate… this…” Harry rolls his hand slowly trying to find the right word. 

“Our last days as just ‘boyfriends’?” Louis suggests, his voice down and his eyes heavy. 

“Hmmm,” Harry hums against Louis’ neck. Harry breathes deep, the warm air puffing against Louis’ skin. It almost demands Louis to look at his fiancé. 

 

“Harry?” Louis asks. His eyes are focusing better now as the alcohol in his blood is finally wearing off, but his tiredness tries to push through. 

“Hmmm?” Harry repeats, his head getting heavier on Louis’ shoulder. 

“Would you’ve ever thought that we’d be here? That we’d be getting married?” Louis swallows. He doesn’t know why he is asking this, he doesn’t know if he wants to hear the answer. 

“In a way, I always knew.” Harry lifts his eyes to look at Louis, a small smile dancing on his face. His eyes look so tired but he is fighting to keep them open. 

 

“I actually thought you’d ask me to marry you earlier or that I’d be the one asking. But then you asked and after that I’ve felt the happiest I’ve ever been.” Harry’s words quiet down into whispers, his head leaning back against Louis’ shoulder. His lips kiss Louis’ collar bone, his eyes falling shut slowly. 

“Do you have to go to the hotel tonight already?” Louis asks, his hand rising to cradle Harry’s head in his palm. His fingers tangle in to Harry’s messy curls, his fingertips gently massaging Harry’s scalp. 

“You know I have to. We wanted it, it’s a wedding tradition.” Harry mumbles. 

“But we still have two days until Saturday. You could come home until tomorrow evening.” Louis almost pleads. 

“We also have to write our vows and I want to do it in my own peace.” Harry looks again into Louis’ eyes, his hand lifting to rest against his cheek. 

“I love you Louis and when on Saturday we meet again, we won’t be just a couple anymore. We are getting married and the hotel is arranged for me to get ready for it as our home is arranged to be your place to get ready.”

“Louis, I’d be more than happy to stay at home, but we agreed that it’s good to have a final breather before Saturday. And we still both have to write our vows,” Harry emphasizes, his warmth seeping in to Louis. 

“But I’ll miss you.” Louis weeps silently.

“And I miss you already,” Harry agrees, his eyes falling shut and his head finding its place against Louis’ shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll update on Sunday, the 3rd of January :)


	6. Glory

Harry watches the sun rise from the hotel’s luxurious king size bed, alone and swallowed in thick duvets. His eyes peek out from the corner of the duvet, his hair a curly mess over the soft pillow. 

There’s some muffled sounds from outside the room. He knows that Gemma is already up and has let their mum in, but they won’t come into the room until later, not before 9am. That gives Harry at least two more hours alone. 

The light rises slowly, taking over little parts of the room inch by inch. It only makes Harry’s mouth grow even drier, his heart pounding in his chest even harder than it did last night. 

 

Harry huffs, covering his head with the duvet completely. He doesn’t know why he is so nervous now. He has been so sure before, he has been almost overly confident about this wedding. His and Louis’ wedding. But now as the day is finally here, he can only take deep breaths and bury himself in bed. 

Last night he stayed awake until four, thinking about the upcoming day, thinking about what it will be like. What could go wrong? What could be so overwhelming that he has to lean on his knees to catch his breath? He knows he wants this, but at the same time this day makes him so nervous that he would much rather skip it. 

 

So many things are happening today. Getting married is just repeating some words and giving a speech to Louis in front of a lot of people and then they give each other their rings and that’ll be it. Then some partying and eating and more partying and going on a honeymoon with Louis. It’s not a big deal. 

But for some reason it makes Harry so nervous that he can’t stop hugging his pillow and feeling a cold sweat rising on to the back of his neck. 

 

The duvet gets too hot to be under. Harry throws it off him, strands of his hair puffing up in the air and falling on to his face. He wipes them aside, staring at the ceiling. The sun keeps on rising behind the grey clouds, not giving Harry any mercy. 

Harry feels nauseous of how nervous he is. His stomach is literally twisting as he keeps on thinking about this day. His eyes sting, the panicked tears surfacing and falling from his eyes towards his ears. He clenches his hands against the sheets, his palms cold and wet from sweat. 

 

“How should I wake him?” Gemma’s whisper sounds from the other side of the door. 

“I can say something, you just carry the tray.” Anne instructs, knocking on the door lightly. With frantic movements Harry pulls the duvet back on and closes his eyes. He tries to keep his breathing even so it would look like he is just waking up, like he’s had a good night’s sleep. Like this day doesn’t terrify him. 

 

“Wakey wakey, Harry,” Anne says lightly, her words dancing in the air. Harry tries to open his eyes slowly, smiling and stretching his arms over his head. He sighs, the smile straining the muscles on his face. 

“Morning,” Harry croaks out, his voice genuinely sounding like he hasn’t been awake for the past couple of hours. 

“It’s time to have a good breakfast and then get ready,” Gemma tells him, sitting on the edge of the bed, a huge breakfast tray in her hands. 

 

Harry sits up, supporting his back with pillows from around him. He takes the tray, Gemma smiling at the food. There’s fresh orange sliced into bitesize pieces, apple slices, grapes, a couple of slices of brown bread, a boiled egg, tomato, cucumber and a cup of tea giving Harry the strength he needs for the day. 

Harry’s eyes catch a small white flower in a glass, the delicate petals making him want to cry even more. He swallows the lump and the tears in his throat, smiles and looks up at Gemma and then his mum. 

“Thank you,” he says, taking a piece of apple in his hand. 

“We’ll let you eat in peace.” Gemma talks so silently, like they’d need to watch out from waking up a baby in the room. 

“Why are you whispering?” Harry whispers to her, a genuine smile finally breaking through. 

“Because whispering suits this moment better than talking loudly as I always do!” she finishes with raising her voice. It really doesn’t suit the situation, her voice almost assaulting the early morning breakfast. Harry only nods, looking back down at his food. 

“We’ll be back a bit later when you’ve finished,” Anne tells him, already walking out the door slowly. 

“Have you already eaten?” Harry asks then, wanting company. But apparently his sister and mum can’t see it. They want to give him the peace and quiet that they think he needs. 

“Yes, a while ago,” Anne smiles. 

“Oh okay. Well, I’ll see you in a bit.” Harry bites the inside of his cheek, breaking the delicate skin and tasting metallic blood seeping through the cut. He swallows the taste down, biting on the piece of apple instead. 

Gemma rises from the bed, walking out. She gives Harry a small wave before she closes the door after her. As soon as Harry is alone again, he slumps down against the pillows and drops his smile. He munches on the apple, the fruit tasting like cardboard. 

 

Why does this day have to be like this? Why does he have to be so nervous about this all? This should be a happy day. Not a day when he thinks he might actually shit his pants when he walks down the aisle. Or a day when he can’t even taste anything. 

It’s a day he wants to just cry and have Louis beside him, comforting him. But he doesn’t want to worry Louis, he doesn’t want to call him and ask if he is this nervous too. Maybe he is, Harry really doesn’t know. 

Harry finishes his breakfast without tasting anything, just swallowing everything down and hoping they will also stay down. He doesn’t want to be puking in the toilet on this special day, which is already feeling so extremely special by making Harry fear for his life. 

 

\- - 

 

Harry looks at himself in the bathroom mirror. The reflector keeps on catching mist to the surface, Harry’s hand wiping it over and over again. Water starts forming and falling against the smoothness, clearing out the mirror. 

Harry leans against the bathroom counter, his heart hammering wildly. His body is already sweating, even though he just spent a good amount of time in a cold shower. 

He can’t go to his own wedding feeling like he smells of something else other than his cologne and fresh shower. Harry sighs deeply, hanging his towel from his hips on a hook on the door once again, stepping back in to the shower. He washes his skin so clean that it might rip off. In the cold shower he starts to shiver, his skin turning pink. He just can’t control his nerves, they are taking over his whole being. 

 

“You still in the shower?” Gemma’s voice asks outside the bathroom. 

“Yeah! Give me a minute!” Harry answers. 

He might as well wash his hair again too, what’s the harm. Harry takes the shampoo bottle in to his hand to squeeze it on to his palm, but his hands are almost cramping as they shake so much. 

He tries to push his nerves in to the back of his mind, as he fiddles with the shampoo bottle. Harry raises his hands to his hair, closing his eyes and trying to drift his head in to a happier place. 

A place, where he is at home. Louis is washing his teeth and humming a song. Harry can’t recognize the song, it’s the toothpastes fault. Louis would shake his hips, his other hand in a loose fist as he’d pump it in the air calmly. 

Louis would look at Harry, dancing for him and then turning back to face the mirror. Harry would wash his hair, smile, feel the calming water cascading down his back. He’d enjoy the moment so much that it wouldn’t even feel real. 

 

“Harry! I’m sorry to rush you, but you need to finish your shower so we can get you ready!” Anne’s voice orders outside the bathroom. Harry’s sweet bubble bursts, the feeling of losing control taking over again. The nervous tears are trying to push out, Harry letting a couple slip out from his eyes. 

“I’ll be ready in just a moment!” Harry tries to stall his mum and sister. He knows that he can’t stall for much longer, then he’ll be late to his own wedding. 

He rinses his hair one last time, closing the shower and stepping out again. He dries himself with the towel. He knows he has to go out there, he has to face getting dressed and everything in making him look presentable for his wedding. One last breath and he steps out in to his bedroom. 

 

“There he is!” Anne smiles wide. She is already dressed. In a dark copper dress and her hair high up, she looks perfect. Harry always imagined his mum to be wearing some sort of a trousers and jacket combination to his wedding but apparently he was wrong. 

“Gemma! Do you have the suit ready?” Anne asks, putting on her diamond bracelet. 

Harry gave it to her a couple of Christmases back. It was his and Louis’ idea to give it to her. Harry misses Louis so badly. He wishes he could freak out with Louis together, not be stranded in some fancy hotel room and feel this way without Louis’ comforting arms and eyes and words. 

“Here.” Gemma enters the room, carrying a huge black suit bag in her arms. Harry turns around to see her, of course she is ready too. It’s already past ten anyway, Harry should really be getting ready. But here he is, barely holding on with his shaky hands and heart beating so fast that he doesn’t know if it’s even beating anymore. 

 

“You look beautiful,” Anne compliments Gemma. She’s wearing a sparkling black sequin dress that hugs her body like it was made just for her. Maybe it was, Gemma had said she is investing in her dress. 

Her hair is like a tame lion’s mane, the blond strands gathered at the back of her head and made to look like she has much more hair than she actually does. 

“You both look beautiful.” Harry clears his throat, still wearing the towel on his hips, his hair dripping wet. 

“And you, groom, should get some underpants on.” Anne smiles warmly, taking the suit bag from Gemma. Harry nods, biting his teeth together. From his leather travel bag he gets a fresh pair of black briefs and goes in to the bathroom. 

He can hear how the suit bag is hung on the wardrobe’s door and how the zipper is pulled down. He can even hear the bag opening and revealing his suit. Of course he already knows what it looks like, but for some reason his head can’t quite remember how the suit looks like on him. 

Gemma and Anne are whispering something in the bedroom, Harry’s ears not catching the words. Instead with a deep breath, he releases himself from the towel, dries his hair, hangs his towel and puts on his underwear. 

This is it now, he can’t turn back anymore. Well, he hasn’t been able to turn back for the past six years, but now his and Louis’ relationship is getting on a new level and he really can’t back down. 

Earlier it might’ve been easier, he could’ve just called it quits. But he doesn’t want to do it, no, never! He could never imagine his life without Louis. Now he just wishes Louis could be closer, giving him encouragement. 

 

“You okay in there, Harry?” Gemma asks through the door. Harry wakes from his thoughts and opens the door to see his sister waiting for him. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, attempting a smile. 

“You can be nervous today, Harry, it’s a huge step,” Gemma tells him, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder. 

“Yeah, of course.” He nods, swallowing thickly. The tears are about to burst again. He is sure he can’t contain them for long, the tears are too heavy, they burn too much. 

“Okay, well come out here, let’s get you into your suit!” Gemma smiles, dragging her hand down Harry’s arms and wrapping her hand around his. Their mum has gone somewhere, maybe she is in the other room. 

 

“Where’s mum?” Harry asks, as Gemma starts to separate the clothing. 

“She’s in her room, she had to call Jay,” she says, pursing her lips together. Harry doesn’t even see the parts of his suit as Gemma lays them on his bed carefully. Why would she be calling Jay right now?

“Is something wrong?” Harry is sure his heart takes a leap. What if something’s wrong?

“No, oh God, no! Everything’s great! Mum just wants to ask something.” Gemma smiles, reassuring Harry. But also, Harry’s uneasiness doesn’t go anywhere. He’s still as nervous as he was before.

 

“Okay! This looks really nice. Here, put on the socks first.” She hands the black socks to Harry. He obeys, putting them on. For the first time, his eyes flit to his suit. It’s just like he remembered and at the same time nothing like he remembered. 

The black trousers are smooth, clearly made for his measures. They hold a beautiful texture, it reminds Harry of leaves that would’ve been printed directly on to the fabric. They aren’t flashy, but they aren’t just plain black trousers either. 

The black silk shirt shines dimly in the grey light coming in from the window. The silk seems thin, in some light it looks almost see through. But then you tilt your head just the slightest, and it doesn’t shine like it did earlier, you can’t see anything through it. 

The jacket is the masterpiece. Deep gold colour, small black bees covering the fabric in order. The seams are decorated with the same black fabric as the trousers, creating lines in to the otherwise mono coloured jacket. All the clothes are made with skill, he can now only imagine what they’ll feel when they are on. 

 

Gemma hands Harry the shirt next. She holds it carefully, handing it with grace. Harry takes it, his fingers shaking. He hides it well though, fiddling with the material like he’d only be interested of how it felt. The problem is that he doesn’t put it on, he freezes with the shirt in his hands. 

“Well, put it on so I can give you your trousers.” Gemma chuckles, her eyes wide as she looks at Harry. 

“Yeah, yeah I’ll wear it.” Harry gives her a tight smile, nodding his head. 

The shirt glides on his skin effortlessly. Harry swallows as he feels it hugging his arms and being just the right fit. 

“I’ll help you with the buttons.” Gemma says, leaving the rest of the clothes on the bed. Her fingers dance on the front of Harry’s shirt, delicately buttoning the shirt all the way up. 

“Does it have to be closed all the way?” Harry asks, his neck feeling like someone would be strangling him. 

“Yeah, because you’ll have a bowtie.” She goes back to the bed, showing it to Harry. He didn’t even see it, the black bowtie with golden bees. The same bees as the ones on his jacket, sown on to the bow. 

 

“Then the trousers.” Gemma hands them to Harry, watching as he puts them on. They slip on with ease. They remind Harry of his skinny jeans, the thicker fabric almost something he’d wear on just a regular day. He closes them, his legs already sweating. 

“How do they feel? They look really nice,” Gemma compliments with a wide smile. 

“They are good,” Harry agrees, his mouth getting drier by the second. He is trying to swallow his nervousness down, but the only thing he feels is his raspy throat and sandpaper like mouth. The trousers are good, they are really good. But for some reason he can’t see them. He can’t see anything. 

The only thing he can see is his shaking hands and feel his eyes getting blurry as tears fill them over and over again. Gemma doesn’t notice the tears falling on the carpet though. Harry hangs his head low, the tears never touch his cheeks. They just fall and leave small darker spots on the floor. 

 

“Could you tuck your shirt in?” Gemma asks, turning to get the bowtie. Harry does as he is told, his hands working mechanically. He hates the prickling feeling on his fingers, like blood isn’t circulating anymore. Gemma walks closer as he finishes. She wraps the tie around his neck, her hands tying it beautifully. 

“How do you know how to tie a bowtie?” Harry wonders out loud, trying to get his mind off things. But the bowtie is for his suit. And he is going to wear that suit for his wedding. So there he goes again. And the attempt of distracting his head goes down the drain. 

“Because I taught myself to do it for my little brother’s big day.” She smiles gently, her eyes warm as she finishes tying the bow. She smooths her hands over Harry’s shoulders, watching in to his eyes. 

 

“Gemma?” Harry asks. He can feel the burn in his eyes ready to be filled with tears again. He can feel how his heart is pushing him to ask for his sisters golden advice. 

“Harry?” Her eyes crinkle lightly from the corners. Harry opens his mouth, the words ready to be said. But his head is saying no, his head is screaming no. 

“Thanks,” Harry sighs, Gemma’s hands leave his shoulders. 

She smiles, getting the jacket from the bed. She holds it from the shoulders, walking back closer to Harry. He can feel the weight of the clothes on him. He can feel the different textures against his skin, he can feel his insides fighting back. 

Gemma gets behind his back, demanding his hands to be put into the sleeves. Harry shrugs the jacket on his shoulders, Gemma making sure it’s put on just right. Her hands smooth the jacket on his back and on his shoulders, the colour a beautiful contrast against the other clothes.

Harry can see himself from a whole body mirror. He looks like someone important today. He looks like someone who is getting married today. His chest tightens, the clothes getting heavier and heavier. 

The bowtie chokes him, the trousers starting to feel too tight against his legs. His palms sweat as he is trying to catch his breath without Gemma noticing how much he is panicking. 

 

“And the last touch,” she sing songs, a black handkerchief in her hand. She places it in to the breast pocket on the jacket. She folds it a bit more, making it look just right. She steps on to Harry’s side, her hand cradling Harry’s waist. 

“There! Then we only have your hair to be done and I could put some makeup on you, maybe to hide those bags under your eyes?” She smiles warmheartedly. She looks at them both. Harry is like a statue standing there. His eyes well up, the huge tears rolling on to his cheeks. It’s getting too real! 

 

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Gemma turns to him, her hand rising to his cheek. 

“I’m so nervous Gems. I-I-I… I don’t know how I’m going to do it. I don’t know how I’m going to get through today.” Harry cries in to her neck, as she wraps her hands around him. 

She holds him tight, breathing calmly against his chest. Harry follows her slow puffs of air hitting the back of his neck. Her hands stroke his back deliberately, the movement calming Harry even more. 

“Let’s go and sit on the bed for a while,” Gemma says quietly, leading Harry to sit down. 

She holds him as close as she can. They don’t speak for a while, Gemma just wants Harry to breathe for a moment. She wants him to calm down before they’ll make it all better. Harry closes his eyes, his lungs concentrating on breathing and his heart on pumping blood. 

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Gemma asks after a while. Harry nods against her shoulder. 

“I just… I’m so nervous.” Harry sighs, hiccupping tears from his eyes. 

“What makes you so nervous?” Gemma’s gentle voice feels nice in Harry’s ears. 

“This whole day. I mean I’m not nervous of getting married to Louis. I love him more than I have love in my body. But it’s so final, this is it. I’m getting married and that’s it. What’s after that? I feel like life just stops after today, I have nothing to look forward to after today. Or I have but at the same time I don’t know what to look forward to.” Harry tells her, his words partly mixing together, some words drawling out slowly. 

“Are you nervous about something else?” Gemma asks, feeling that there is something more giving Harry the jitters. 

“Ummm… I’m not sure if I want to come out.” He gives away his thoughts. 

Then it hits him, he doesn’t want to come out, not yet at least. He has wanted it for so long, he has wanted to come out with Louis. They have even been more obvious about it. They’ve been so obvious that it’s almost embarrassing how much they want to come out. 

But now as he thinks about it, he would much rather be himself with people he can really trust. He doesn’t want everyone asking him about it, he isn’t ready for it. He doesn’t need everyone to know about it. 

 

“Harry you…” A light knock at the door stops Gemma from speaking. She turns to the door, Harry’s eyes staring at the floor. Anne opens the door just the slightest, her gentle smile coming to view. 

“I have something for you Harry,” she says, nodding at Gemma. 

“Do you mind if I leave you sitting here for a moment?” Gemma asks. She squeezes her brother’s shoulder. Harry shakes his head, Gemma standing up immediately. 

She goes to the door, Anne and her talking about something in whispers. He can hear his mum saying something about mother’s instincts, Gemma agreeing with her. Harry turns around just as Gemma is placing a chair behind the door, leaving the door ajar. 

 

“Harry, can you come and sit here?” she asks, a gentle smile on her lips. Harry looks at her in confusion, but stands up and walks to the chair. He sits down just as he can hear another chair’s legs lightly hitting the floor on the other side. 

“I’ll be gone for a moment. Then we can talk more if you still feel like it,” she says, leaving Harry alone with a light stroke of his cheek. Harry makes himself comfortable on the chair, breathing out a long sigh. It’s quiet on the other side, he doesn’t know what he should do know. Why is he even sitting here? 

 

“Harry?” His skin rises with goose bumps, the voice igniting a huge yearning for the person on the other side of the door. 

“Louis?” Harry’s voice breaks, new tears falling from his eyes. He can see a hand reaching out from the door, the fingertips trying to find Harry. They fumble in the air, Harry leaning forward and taking hold of Louis’ hand. It’s cold, but familiar and safe. 

“Anne called my mum saying that you’re nervous. And they thought it would be a good idea for us to talk before the wedding,” Louis says calmly, a smile in his voice. 

“I miss you so much,” Harry cries, his lips kissing Louis’ fingers. 

“We’ll meet soon, face to face,” Louis says gently, his hand starting to shake. 

“I’m so nervous Louis, I just can’t stop crying,” Harry weeps. He tries to find some hold of his breathing before it gets out of control.

 

“What makes you nervous, love?” 

“Just today. I don’t know what to think, my head is a mess. And I’m not nervous of getting married to you because I’ve wanted it for so long. We’ve wanted it for so long. But I’m nervous of the after part. What happens next? What is there to look forward to? I don’t… I’m not sure if I want to make it all public.” Harry sighs, dipping his head down. 

His damp curls touch Louis’ fingers. Louis starts to play with them instantly. It soothes Harry more than Gemma stroking his back. 

“The things we are looking forward to… Hmmm… That’s the part I’m most excited about.” Louis exhales on the other side. He gives a light laugh. Harry hears him take deep breaths. 

 

“I can’t wait to go on our honeymoon in Paris with you. That’s the first thing I’m excited about.” Harry smiles at his words. 

“And then…” Louis’s voice breaks. Harry listens closely, hearing how Louis cries lightly. 

“Then we get to start our life. The life that we’ve wanted. The life where it’s just going to be me and you. Us. There’ll be other holidays, our own Christmases, our own little things.”

“And then maybe someday there’ll be a third person in our lives. We have to move in to a bigger house, we get to be a family. And we get to grow old together. That’s the part I’m most excited about.” Louis smiles through his tears, his voice breaking with his words. 

 

His words make Harry see the light. It’s not today that he is nervous about. It’s the things after. And he understands that his nervousness isn’t bad even though it might feel like it. But it’s something that he can conquer, something that he wants to face because there’s so much in store for him and Louis. Their life is just starting. 

“I can’t wait for that part to start either,” Harry gasps, the last tears fall from his eyes for now. They don’t burn anymore, they are light and cooling. 

“And for the coming out part. We don’t have to do it in public. We’ll just keep on going just as before, but now we’ll be married and we won’t have new contracts written with third parties. It’ll be just us against the world and we will do whatever we want.”

“This is our life, not something for other people’s entertainment. I love you and I could never force you to come out just because I’d want it,” Louis says more sternly, saying the things Harry really craved to hear. He knew Louis would understand him, he knew Louis would be the one who could calm Harry about the whole publicity thing. 

“I love you,” Harry sighs, his forehead falling against Louis’ fingers. 

 

Harry holds Louis’ hand for a time longer. His hair dries out, his mind calming down and nervousness turning in to joy. 

“You ready to get married?” Louis asks, his voice full of his crinkly eyed smile. 

“I am,” Harry answers, giving one last kiss to Louis’ fingertips before they have to let go. 

 

\- -

[Somewhere Over the Rainbow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NVClOMH7yWQ)

 

Anne holds Harry’s arm, her proud eyes looking up at her son. Harry smiles, his heart fluttering in his chest. Behind those doors are all the guests. The aisle. The altar. Louis. Louis is behind those doors. And Harry will get married. 

Harry’s stomach tickles with butterflies, his lungs taking in a long breath. He blows it out, the doors opening slowly. He stands with his mother out of the guest’s line of vision, Anne giving him a tight squeeze of her hands. 

They hear the calm music floating out, it’s the cue. They can hear how the people in the room stand up, the low whooshing sound the last encouragement Harry needs. They take a step forward, stepping in to the halo of light. 

 

Warm light glows out from the room, a dark red carpet rolled out for him. White flowers, peonies, line the aisle. Smiling people watch Harry and Anne, who take a slow step forward. Some are already tearing up, digging out their handkerchiefs. White candles light up the room in lanterns, the warmth like a hug that invites Harry closer. 

One last breath and Harry sees Louis. Harry feels himself staring, but he doesn’t really care. Louis smiles wide, his chest heaving up and down. The minister smiles calmly, looking at Louis and Harry with glad eyes. 

Harry feels like his feet don’t touch the floor. He is flying. He sees only Louis, who is waiting for him at the end of the altar, Lottie and Niall by his side. Gemma and Liam are waiting for Harry in their places on Harry’s side of the altar, proud smiles covering their features. 

Harry feels the paper, where he wrote his vows, burning his chest where his heart beats. He holds on to his mum tightly, yet he feels like he would be feather light. Louis is the one drawing him closer. The guests are a sea of people, he can’t recognise any faces even though he knows everyone in the room. And they know him and they know Louis. 

 

Harry takes the last step, before he turns to his mum. Anne smiles as tears drop from her eyes. She kisses Harry’s cheek, whispering, “I love you so much and I couldn’t be happier for you. I’m so proud of you my baby boy.” Harry kisses her back, closing his eyes as she listens to her words and her soft voice. 

She sniffles, slowly letting go of her son. She steps in front of Louis, hugging him and whispering something in to his ear with her watery voice. Louis smiles and kisses her cheek. Harry steps in place, opposite from Louis. Anne leaves the altar, sitting down in the front row next to Robin on Harry’s side. 

Louis takes Harry’s hands in to his own, trying to control his smile. Harry takes a deep breath. As he breathes it out, it shakes, his eyes filling with tears. He smiles through them as they roll on to his cheeks. Louis raise his hand to wipe them away. He is trying to fight his own tears, but fails. They giggle, the guests chuckling with them. 

 

“You are here to witness a wedding. Today we unite Louis and Harry as husbands. What we do today is done in conformity to the laws of the country and in the modern Western tradition of the act of marriage.” the minister begins with her calm voice. 

Harry can’t stop smiling as he is looking at Louis’ who is trying to keep his tears in control. His smile lights Harry in a way that no one else’s smile could. 

 

“The most important thing in life is to love someone. The second most important thing is to have someone love you. The third most important thing is to have the first two happen at the same time.”

“That is what has happened to Louis and Harry. They have fallen in love and have come to make a public commitment of their love for and loyalty to one another in front of these witnesses,” she continues, her hand moving to address the small audience of one hundred people. 

 

“Louis and Harry, you have requested that I marry you. Do you both do this of your own desire and free will?” she asks, them both first looking at the minister, then at each other. 

"We do." They answer at the same time, their fingers squeezing together. 

“Do any of the witnesses know of any reason why we may not continue with this wedding?”

"We do not." The audience answers in unison, Harry and Louis looking at them. For the first time Harry can see his friends sitting with the others, recognizing faces and attaching their names to the rightful owners. 

“Then let’s continue. Louis and Harry have written vows to each other, which they would like to say in front of all you.” She takes a small step back, Louis letting go of Harry’s hands. 

Harry tangles his fingers together in front of himself, waiting for what Louis has written. He feels his nerves build up once again, his own written vows pressing against his chest. 

 

“Harry, my love. My first and…” Louis bursts out crying, his voice breaking. 

“My first and deepest love,” he continues. His tears keep on falling from his blue eyes, but his smile is so calm that it makes Harry freeze in his spot. He feels like he’s alone in this room with Louis. He listens and stares in to the calmness that Louis offers. 

“Remember when we met? We were so young back then, we hadn’t seen anything. We hadn’t seen the world, we hadn’t experienced the things life could offer. Slowly, we fell in love. We fell and it was the purest feeling a human could ever feel. It is the purest feeling you could ever experience.” 

“Even just now, when I’m looking at you, my love, I can still feel the same love. It has changed. It has grown stronger. It has made us be who we are. But it has never been anything else other than pure. Our love is like a snowflake, unique, something you want to cherish. And I want to cherish you for the rest of our lives.”

“I want to hold you and love you. I want to keep you safe. I want to be the last person on your side in this lifetime. You, my love, are my everything and I promise to never stop loving you.” Louis finishes, his words choked as he speaks through his tears. But he never drops the smile. 

Louis makes Harry forget where he is, he makes him feel like he was sixteen again. Tears roll from Harry’s eyes, he hadn’t even realized he was holding back any tears. 

 

Harry takes a deep breath, the paper in the pocket inside his jacket making itself known again. But Harry doesn’t take it out, he takes Louis’ hands in his instead. Louis fumbles with the paper in his hand, pushes it in his jacket pocket and takes Harry’s hand back in his. He sighs, swallowing thickly. 

Harry smiles nervously, his heart beating in his ears. He feels so young and immature standing in front of Louis. He is so nervous but so sure at the same time, it’s giving him whiplash. He almost feels like he’s a virgin in some way. 

 

“I don’t know how I could top that.” He chuckles, the audience giving a light laugh at his words. 

“I have always believed in love. I’ve always believed in a bit of magic when it comes to love. I have always believed that there is that special someone for everyone out there somewhere. You could find that person when you’re 90 years old, you could sail through relationships and never find it.”

“But I have been lucky, and I found my special someone when I was sixteen. There you were and I knew. Even as young as I was, I still knew that we were special. And I’ve never stopped loving you. I remember when I realised that I love you. And it still amazes me how much I love you.”

“After six years I still love you as much, even more, than when I first fell for you. Even now, when I’m holding your hands, I can feel the magic that lives in us. And I never want to let go of that feeling. I promise you to keep that magic alive, whatever life throws our way.”

“I can’t wait for the next chapter in our life to begin. I can’t wait to start our own family together, and find you by my side when we’re 90. And then, at that moment, I’ll still remember the love I felt when I was sixteen. I’ll still remember this day. I’ll remember the day when our first child will be born.” 

“Even though I would not be able to speak or see or hear anything, I will remember this. You are my first love and when I take my last breath and leave, I’ll be happy because then I have felt the love and magic that I always believed in.” Harry finishes, his original vows forgotten. 

He is crying profusely as the last word flows from his lips. He means every word and beyond. Some things he can’t even put into words and his love towards Louis is something he can’t describe. 

Louis pulls him in close, his hands wrapping around Harry. With a crash, they hug each other, the witnesses forgotten as Louis and Harry are in their own little world. Louis holds on so tightly that it almost hurts, but Harry will never say no to Louis’ hugs. 

 

They let go of each other so the minister can go on with the service. 

“Louis, will you have this man to be your wedded husband, to love him, comfort him, honour and keep him, and forsaking all others, keep you only unto him, for so long as you both shall live?” 

“I do,” Louis answers, his cheeks blushing. 

“Harry, will you have this man to be your wedded husband, to love him, comfort him, honour and keep him, and forsaking all others, keep you only unto him, for so long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” Harry tries to contain his smile as he looks at Louis. 

 

“The marriage ring seals the vows of marriage and represents a promise for eternal and everlasting love. It is a physical evidence of the promises joining the both of you together.”

“The wedding ring is placed on the fourth finger of the left hand because it is traditionally believed that this finger is in a direct connection to the heart - the perfect place for a symbol representing eternal love and commitment.” The minister talks, her smile getting wider as she speaks. 

Louis smiles, not able to hide it. Harry knows they are getting closer to the end and for some reason he wouldn’t want this to stop. 

 

“Do you have the rings you would like to exchange?” She asks. Harry and Louis nod, Niall digging his suit jacket pocket and getting out the blue velvet box. He gives the rings to the couple, as they have to let go of each other’s hands. Louis takes Harry’s left hand in to his, the engagement ring firmly on his ring finger. Louis gazes at the minister. 

“Louis, if it is your desire to become the husband of Harry, then repeat after me.” Louis agrees at her words. He turns his eyes at Harry and smiles gently. 

 

“I, Louis, take you, Harry, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, to love and to cherish, from this day forward.” Louis repeats the words, his voice shaking. 

He pushes the ring on to Harry’s finger against the engagement ring. He smiles and holds for Harry’s left hand for a beat longer. Harry smiles back at Louis, his own hands starting to sweat as it’s his turn. 

“Harry, if it is your desire to become the husband of Louis, then repeat after me,” the minister says. 

“I, Harry, take you, Louis, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, to love and to cherish, from this day forward.” Harry repeats the words, speaking to Louis. 

Harry puts the wedding ring on Louis, the engagement ring and the wedding ring complimenting each other. 

“Let these rings be given and received as a token of your affection, sincerity and fidelity to one another,” the minister says. Harry bites his teeth together, there’s only one part left. 

 

“We who have come together today have heard the willingness of Louis and Harry to be joined in marriage. They have come of their free will and in our presence, have declared their love and commitment to each other.”

“They have given and received a ring as a symbol of their promises. Therefore, by the power vested in me, I take great pride and pleasure as I declare them husband and husband.” The minister smiles, her words laced with bubbling joy. 

“You may now kiss your husband,” she says to Louis, Harry starting to giggle. Louis steps forward, wrapping his other hand to Harry’s waist, his other hand tangling in Harry’s hair. 

As their lips connect, the audience jumps up and bursts out in ear shattering applauds and cheers. Harry can’t stop smiling, neither can Louis. The kiss is sweet and quick, but they both start giggling so much so they have to end it. 

Harry and Louis turn towards their family and friends, people throwing small glittering confetti towards the couple. Harry laughs out loud, he feels like he would be high from the happiness. He turns to look at Louis, his expression telling he is feeling the same way. 

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I now present to you Mr. and Mr. Tomlinson-Styles!” The minister yells over the crowd, the people in the room getting even louder. Louis grits his teeth together as he hears the name. He and Harry start walking down the aisle, the cheers louder in the middle of the people. 

“We have to do something to the name.” Louis pulls Harry closer and says it quietly in to Harry’s ear. Harry nods, not able to stop laughing. 

They step outside the room, the doors closing after them. They can distinctively hear the cheering dimming down, the minister telling them about the wedding reception in a Great Hall. Louis turns to Harry, his hands on Harry’s hips. 

“I love you, my husband.” He smiles, Harry pressing his forehead against Louis’. 

“I love you more.” Harry sighs, their lips finding each other. The kiss is nothing like in front of the people, in front of their witnesses. This time, it’s the one that holds the commitment and the love. It’s the real first kiss as husbands. 

 

\- -

 

Harry sits on the shower floor fully clothed, water streaming through the textiles. His eyes keep falling shut, even though he is supposed to be getting undressed. It’s already five in the morning, the after party ended just moments earlier. His hair sticks to his forehead and eyelashes. He keeps his mouth open so he can drink the water showering down on him. 

“Harry?” Louis’ voice asks. Harry can hear his steps getting closer. 

“Harry.” Louis laughs, as he opens the shower door and steps inside. Harry opens his eyes, Louis sitting on his lap to straddle him.

 

“Tired?” Louis asks as the water rains on them. Their clothes stick against their skins, the suits getting heavier. 

“Very,” Harry answers, his eyes lazily staying open. 

“Let’s get up. I’ll help you undress and then we’ll go to sleep.” Louis stands up first, helping Harry up. His legs wobble, the wet clothes pulling his shoulders down. 

 

“What about our wedding night?” Harry asks, his voice partly gone. They both kept talking to so many people at the wedding reception and then at the after party that his mouth has gone completely dry. 

There were so many people to greet and talk with, so many well wishes to receive and so many people who they haven’t had the time to spend time with lately. The place was perfect. Chandeliers were warmly lit and hung low, more flowers and candles decorating the venue. 

Music played all day and night long. Ed was the one who got the privilege to sing for their first dance. The cake was delicious, hundreds of pictures were taken when Louis held Harry’s waist and their hands were joined to cut the first piece. It was magical in the room, the atmosphere something Harry couldn’t have ever imagined. The night couldn’t have gone better. 

 

“We can have a post-wedding morning filled with good breakfast, dirty sex and staying in bed the whole day,” Louis smiles confidently. 

“Let’s do that,” Harry agrees as he feels his skin getting freed from the suit. Louis almost peels the clothes off, the different fabrics folding and stretching. 

“But promise me one thing, my lovely husband,” Harry questions, peeking his eyes open again. 

“I’ll give you the moon if you want it.” Louis smiles, his hands tugging Harry’s pants down. 

“We’ll also have dirty shower sex tomorrow, when we are both well rested.” Harry’s smug voice fills the glass walled shower. Louis’ mouth pops open, a smirk taking over his mouth when he collects himself. 

 

“Oh my, my lovely husband. What a promise to make.” Louis giggles, kissing Harry’s neck, sucking and leaving a deep bite mark on his skin. Harry moans lightly in to the pain, his hands coming to rest on Louis’ waist and tightening his grip. Louis kisses the spot with love, spreading the gentleness also around the love bite. 

“Just wait for tomorrow and you’ll get ten more, my dirty, lovely husband.” Louis laughs, undressing himself and washing Harry clean. Harry smiles the whole time, giving Louis kisses which ever part of skin he can reach. 

 

Louis helps Harry out of the shower, towelling Harry and himself dry, before they crash in to bed. 

“This day was the best day of my life.” Louis sighs as he curls against Harry’s back. 

“This was only one of them, the best day is still on its way,” Harry says quietly, his hands finding Louis’ arms and pulling him tighter against himself. 

 

Louis can feel the necklace around Harry’s skin, the thing golden chain waiting to be traced. Louis takes it to his hand, his fingers finding the pearl with ease. He squeezes it in his hand, resting it between Harry’s chest and Louis’ palm. 

His other hand finds Harry’s left hand, his fingers entwining with Harry’s. Louis feels the rings pressed against his skin, remembering when it was just an engagement ring hanging from the necklace. 

Now Harry is his husband, two rings decorating both of their fingers. Louis feels like he is literally holding Harry’s life, as the pearl beats lightly with Harry’s heart and the rings on his finger lead straight to his heart. Louis is the luckiest man alive, and this moment proves it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue will be up on Tuesday, the 5th of January :)


	7. Love

Music echoes inside the house as Louis opens the front door and steps inside. A paper bag full of food in his arms, he tries to peek in to the rooms downstairs. The music does get louder, but it’s not coming from any room Louis is close to. It’s coming from upstairs. 

He takes the groceries in to the kitchen and puts the boxes and packages in their rightful places. He folds the paper bag because Harry likes to use them as bio waste bags. The song changes upstairs. Louis nods his head to the beat. He takes a glass of water before he goes to look for his husband.

 

His mouth is dry from the singing today. From singing almost every day for three weeks straight. After being on their second hiatus in three years, he is writing new songs again. Louis has been writing all the time, with Liam or with Harry. But this time he is writing something alone for their new album.

It’s nice to have a bit of time off, their schedule giving him more chances to do the things he likes. A new album, a new tour with fewer dates but in bigger places, a break. That’s the appropriate balance between life and career as a singer. 

And this life is more enjoyable too. Louis can just disappear from the map of the world for a moment, be huddled in their home and do nothing or be huddled in their home and do Harry. Or maybe Harry does him. Perfect! 

 

Louis ventures the house, seeking Harry. He walks past the same pictures from their old house, now decorating their new home. New walls and new memories. 

There are the old pictures, but they aren’t as special as the new ones. Louis’ favourites are the pictures from the pool they were at in the night of the stag do almost four years ago. 

Or a picture of Harry from their wedding, when he was sucking his finger when he had subtly tasted the frosting of their wedding cake. 

Or the official wedding pictures. 

Or the pictures from Paris. The night walks by the Seine or a sneaky picture together in front of the Eiffel Tower. 

Some picture frames are still waiting to be filled with new memories. Louis already knows what pictures they are for. 

 

The music plays behind the door at the end of the hall. Louis knocks on it, finding Harry standing in the middle of the room. He is holding two pieces of paper in his hands against the light and measures them. His head tilts from side to side, his mouth pursed. 

“How was it?” Harry asks deep in thought. 

“It was great, we finished a couple of songs with Liam, and Niall popped by too.” Louis smiles, coming to hug Harry’s waist. His white shirt is well-worn. Some small holes have already formed on to the hem. Louis holds his head against Harry’s shoulder, his fingers caressing Harry’s skin under the shirt. 

Harry’s hair is growing out again. He just cut it, or at least it feels like it. Harry always looks so much younger when he cuts his hair, especially this time when he cut it completely short from the back and sides. His curls are visible only on the top, where he left it longer. 

The cut suits Harry, it makes him look like some undiscovered talent, who has a whiskey stained voice and who lives life from his backpack. 

 

“What have you been doing?” Louis asks, kissing Harry’s shoulder through his shirt and then looking back at the pieces of paper in his hands. They are both white. 

“I took the old wallpapers off the walls and washed the walls clean. I got some samples of the paints that this room could be coloured.” Harry tilts his head at the same time with Louis. He turns the white paper in his hand towards the window where the spring sun shines in. 

 

“What do you think, which one?” Harry asks thoughtfully, looking back at the paper in his left hand which Louis is closest to.

“Ummm, can I ask something?” Louis asks. 

“Hmm?” 

“What’s the difference between them? To me they look completely the same.” Louis chuckles, his hand rising to squeeze Harry’s bicep. 

 

“This one here…” Harry says slowly, showing the sample on his left hand. 

“Has a hint of blue,” he finishes, moving his gaze to the sample in his right hand. 

“And this one has a hint of yellow. Just a bit, it won’t be yellow when you paint with it. Or the one with the blue, it won’t look blue.” Harry turns his eyes at Louis. 

The green in them sparkles, like they’d be smiling calmly. Louis squints his eyes at the samples, the difference more clear as Harry told him that there actually is a difference. There’s not much separating the colours, but he can see the delicate change in the shade. 

 

“I think this one’s better.” Louis takes the sample from Harry’s left hand. He looks at the piece of paper in his own hand and tries to imagine the walls painted with the white which has a hint of blue mixed in to the paint. 

“I was thinking the same, it’s nicer. More relaxing, a bit colder, but also fresher,” Harry agrees, nodding his head. He kisses Louis’ temple and then presses his forehead against the side of Louis’ head. 

“Yeah, it’s better.” Louis smiles, turning his head to Harry. 

 

“What else have you planned?” Louis asks out of curiosity. 

A year ago, they decided they were ready to extend their family. The first thought was to get a dog or a cat, but for some reason, neither of them were that excited about a pet. Harry wanted to have a dinner party just for some friends, and Gemma dropped the bomb. 

“I have something exciting to tell you,” she said. 

“Me and Tommy are expecting our first child!” she squealed, leaving everyone speechless for a while until they gathered themselves and cheered. 

 

That’s when Louis looked at Harry and Harry looked at Louis and they knew. They want a baby. 

Gemma met Tommy through her work. They did some articles and travelling together, which extended to having coffee every morning and dinner every evening. Harry feels very proud that Gemma told him first, that she is going out with Tommy. 

Harry had already met Tommy and he had seen there was something going on between the two. He couldn’t be happier. Gemma and Tommy dated for a while, until they moved together and then suddenly, they were engaged. And then came the wedding and now they have a little girl named Annie. 

 

Annie is one of the sweetest little girls there is. Louis and Harry usually babysit her, if Gemma and Tommy want to have some time for themselves. Having Annie come over just reminds them how much they want a baby.

Sometimes Louis just watches Harry play with the one year old, who wonders everything around her. But the glint in Harry’s eyes and the smile on his lips are just the things that make Louis want babies with Harry even more. He would never want children with anyone else, only with Harry.

Even Tommy and Gemma say that the couple needs and deserves a child. They look like a married couple who have wanted kids together since the first time they met, which is probably true. 

 

So here Louis and Harry are, standing in the middle of the room that will be made in to a room for the child. Their first child. The light streams in from two windows, the space big enough for playing with different toys and for the small family to sit on the floor. 

It has been a long process and it possibly still will be a long process. A year on the adoption agency’s list isn’t that much, but when they get the call, the room will be waiting. 

 

“I thought that the crib could be here.” Harry turns around, showing Louis the space next to the door. Its opposite from the other window, the second one on its left side. The door will be on the crib’s right side. 

“Here…” Harry points to the spot under the window on the wall on their left. 

“Would be the changing table.” He nods slowly. 

“And there…” Harry turns around with Louis sticking to his arm. 

“We’d have a rocking chair, a small book case and a lamp.” Harry points to the corner opposite from the door. 

“And of course there’d be stuffed animals and photos of us,” Harry adds, smiling. 

Louis can see how Harry’s eyes sparkle even when he is thinking about it. Louis can already imagine Harry sitting in the rocking chair with a baby in his arms. He’d be singing a lullaby, stroking the baby’s cheek with feather light fingers. 

But now there’s no rocking chair, no changing table, no crib, no book cases to pick story books from. 

 

“Maybe we could get the paint tomorrow? And paint the walls already?” Louis suggests, his other hand coming to rest on Harry’s lower back. 

“Yeah, let’s do that!” Harry smiles but his eyes have turned sad. 

“What if we aren’t going to have a baby? What if they aren’t going to give us one?” Harry asks with a small voice. His breathing shakes. It’s clear he doesn’t want to think about it, but he still can’t stop bringing the sad idea in to his mind. 

“We are going to have a baby, Harry.” Louis takes Harry’s face between his palms. 

“Maybe it’ll not be tomorrow, or next week or we have to still wait for another year. But at some point we are going to have our own little baby. Adoption processes are difficult and long and we have to be ready for everything. But I’m sure we’re going to have a baby. I can feel it.” Louis looks in to Harry’s sad eyes. They grow more confident with Louis’ words, his head nodding between Louis’ hands. 

“You’re right. We just have to be patient,” Harry says and smiles gently. Louis wraps his arms around Harry, hugging him close against his chest. Harry’s curls tickle his neck, as Harry drops his head on Louis’ shoulder.

 

\- - - -

 

Louis lays on his back squeezing his eyes shut hard. His right hand grabs the duvet on his left, his other hand deep in Harry’s hair. He tries to keep himself still, he tries to stay still as Harry ordered. But it’s getting really hard, as Harry is using his talented mouth on him. 

Harry doesn’t even have to touch Louis, just the mere thought of him sucking him off is enough for Louis to get himself worked up. 

 

Harry’s arms rest on the bed, his skin tightly against Louis’ thighs. The morning is quietly rising, the day getting better and better. The sun shines in and illuminates Harry’s thick curls on the top of his head. Louis looks down at him, wanting to see Harry’s eyes. And like Harry could read Louis’ mind, he does just that. His green eyes lift to look at Louis lustfully, his lips pink and wet and still very much around Louis cock. 

Louis’ heart stops in his chest. As it skips the beat and comes alive again, Harry is already continuing his wake up to Louis. Harry whimpers against Louis’ skin, his legs shuffling to get in to a better position. He already got the blindfold out, waiting for Louis to wear it. 

It really has become a part of their kinks. It’s something else to not see and just anticipate what Harry is going to do next to Louis’ body. 

 

It’s going to be a good day. A happy day. Harry has been happy, Louis has been even happier. And it’s not because of the amazing sex, which has made them happy since the day they started to have sex all this time ago. 

Today might be just a bit different. It’s Friday. And this week they were supposed to get a call from the adoption agency. So today is the day. Either of them could get a call at any time, so of course Harry woke Louis up before eight in the morning to squeeze in something that would make the day even more perfect. 

 

The baby’s room has been ready for a while now. It’s not like they’ve been counting days, no (78 to be exact). And now the room just needs someone in there, someone giggling in high baby voices. 

Or grabbing Louis’ little finger so tightly that he can feel it in his heart. 

Or crying because they need someone to feed them. 

Or the whole family to play on the soft red round carpet Harry and Louis got in the middle of the floor. 

They need the pictures to fill the picture frames. They need the little person in their lives. 

 

It’s definitely more than a perfect day. Louis is moaning with his mouth wide open, his eyes closing shut again as he is starting to see stars. His back arches, Harry’s hand coming up to his stomach to pin him back down. Louis is a complete mess. And he is happy to be controlled like that by Harry.

He wriggles against the mattress, the sheets getting damp under his back. His skin is pushing out sweat that is just pure sex itself. Harry’s lips come to rest on Louis’ hip bone for just a second, before he licks his way back to Louis’ boner. Even Harry’s breathing against Louis’ skin is so magical that Louis whimpers. 

 

The annoying sound of Louis’ phone makes Harry stop for a second, Louis’ eyes opening and drifting to the ringing phone. 

“Someone’s calling,” Louis groans, but he isn’t doing anything to answer the call. He only tightens his hold in Harry’s hair. But the ringing just keeps on going. In the haze of pleasure, Louis reminds himself why it must be so perfect today. Why Harry’s touch could be this good right now. 

“Harry, Harry, Harry, Har- Har-Harry!” Louis pants, his mouth not working. Harry’s mouth pops off Louis, his eyes glazed. 

“It could be them!” Louis whisper yells, his eyes wide. 

Harry’s eyes come back to life, the lust in them fading just the slightest. He turns his eyes to the ringing phone, Louis following behind. With a shaking hand, Louis releases Harry’s hair and takes the phone in his hand. He has to support it with both of his hands as it almost falls on to his chest. Harry nods eagerly, panting silently against Louis’ wet skin. 

 

“Louis Tomlinson,” Louis answers, his voice squeaking. He clears his throat as he realises how inappropriate he sounds. 

Harry’s head falls to rest against Louis’ thigh, his forehead next to Louis’ dick. He could just keep going, Louis is really good at concealing what he is doing when he is on the phone. They have done it before. 

But it’s just the sex talking, Harry reminds himself. He can’t do it now. This phone call could literally change their life. So instead Harry presses his lips against Louis’ thigh, breathing against the soft skin. 

 

Louis says “aha”, “mmhmm” and “okay” a lot. Harry dares to look up, Louis laying there with the phone pressed against his ear. His hand rests against his stomach, his erection fading away. Harry can already guess what it means. Louis would’ve already laughed or said something to Harry, maybe even done a little cheer, if it had worked out. 

Harry presses his eyes closed, his forehead coming to rest against Louis’ thigh once again. Tears fall from his eyes, as he listens to Louis say, “Thank you for letting us now. Do call us if things change.” He sounds so defeated, he sounds nothing like Harry’s Louis. Nothing like his Louis. 

 

Harry can’t bear the thought about not getting a baby. With his heart beating lazily, Harry sits up and leaves Louis laying in the bed. He walks out in to the hall, the child’s room waiting in the other end with a closed door. He walks tentatively, the perfect day turning into a grey day, into a bad day, into one of the worst days. 

Still the sun shines when Harry opens the door in to the room. The cream coloured thin curtains move when Harry steps inside. The red carpet feels nice under his feet, the stuffed animals and bears waiting to be hugged. 

 

Harry takes a white stuffed bunny with huge lop-ears into his hands, his feet gliding to the rocking chair. His bare back rests against the warm wood, his briefs covered bum sitting on the soft pillow. He rocks gently back and forth, the bunny staring back at him with innocent plastic eyes. 

Sometimes Harry wonders if he and Louis could even be good parents. They are singers, they have to tour, they have to do promo, they have to do things for their living. They couldn’t bring a child everywhere. That would make them bad parents, wouldn’t it? It could turn out to be very messy. 

Maybe the adoption people are just now seeing it too. Maybe Harry is just trying to feed this weird obsession with babies by thinking that he could maybe someday have one. 

But in reality, it’s just a dream in his head where he’d be a good father. That he could raise a child in to this world. That he could be good with Louis. They would probably make more mistakes than succeed in growing a child. 

 

Louis knocks on the door lightly. He steps in, Harry wiping away the tears on his cheeks. He rubs the bunny’s arms, the soft material warm under his fingertips. 

“Well, what did they say?” Harry chuckles mirthlessly. He keeps his eyes on the plastic ones that belong to the lifeless toy. They belong to a toy that will never be hugged by little chubby arms. The bunny will never belong to a child. It was all for nothing, all the toys are useless now. 

Louis walks closer, sitting in front of Harry. He places his hands on Harry’s knees. He rubs the skin up and down from Harry’s knees to his ankles. 

“The woman on the phone said that the pregnant girl picked another couple to give the child to. She said that the mother wanted to tell us how sorry she is that she can’t give us the baby. But that she chose the other couple because they have waited for over five years now.” Louis sighs, his breathing hitting Harry’s legs. 

Harry feels himself crying quietly, but he can’t do anything about it. He can’t supress the tears, he doesn’t do a sound. He is silently rocking back and forth on the chair, Louis trying to comfort him. 

“The adoption lady said that we shouldn’t lose our hope. These things happen, people have to make decisions which don’t always please everyone. But we shouldn’t stop believing, that’s what she said.” Louis tries to keep his spirits up, he is trying so hard. 

But he knows that his words won’t make him or Harry feel any better. The adoption lady is just doing her job. And the woman with the baby just made the decision that felt right for her. That’s it.

 

“She did the right thing,” Harry wails quietly, his voice breaking. 

“The pregnant woman, she did the right thing. We haven’t been on that list even two years. What, one and a half years?” For the first time he looks Louis in the eyes with his tear filled ones. Louis only nods at his words. 

“So she did the right thing.” Harry casts his eyes back down. He stops the rocking, Louis’ hands staying on top of his knees, squeezing them lightly. 

 

“Do you think we should stop?” Harry asks, almost whispers. He doesn’t want to say it out loud, but he needs to know what Louis thinks. 

“No! Never, Harry. I want a baby as much as you. And we will not stop, not right now. Not after all this time.” Louis gets on his knees, his stomach pressing against Harry’s knees. Harry pulls the bunny closer, his sad eyes watching Louis. 

“This baby just wasn’t meant for us,” Louis tells him. Louis’ thumb comes to stroke the tears from Harry’s cheeks. Harry nods at him, the smallest smile reassuring Louis but it fades away just as fast as it appeared. 

“I love you and we are going to get through this.” Harry can’t move his mouth to answer to that, he just looks Louis deep into his eyes. 

Louis gently falls against Harry’s thighs, his arms hugging Harry’s legs. His fingers are on Harry’s hips, stroking his skin up and down. Harry rests his head against the back of the rocking chair, his eyes looking outside in to the spring. The world is silent in the room, the curtains swaying gently. 

 

The morning goes on outside. Birds sing beautifully. Trees are starting to grow new light green leaves. People are going on with their lives. Someone is jogging on the pavement with his earphones on. Someone is walking their dog, looking at the pup with fond eyes. Someone is walking to work with a paper cup filled with coffee in her hand. 

The world goes on, everything goes on. Except the time that has stopped in the room where Harry is sitting in the rocking chair and Louis is holding him. 

 

\- - - - 

 

Louis shakes the rain from his hair as he steps inside. 

“Harry?” Louis calls, the house is dark. He takes off his wet shoes and his winter coat. It’s warm inside, his skin prickling with heat. 

“Harry?” Louis calls more gently, his feet cold against the warm wooden floor. He can smell something delicious cooking in the kitchen. A dim light is streaming in to the hallway from the dining room as Louis feet lead him there. 

 

The table is set. Candles are burning and the fireplace is on. Wine glasses and three different plates are waiting in Louis’ and Harry’s places. Louis looks at the setting a bit incredulously. 

Harry hasn’t been cooking anything in months. He has been too sad about the whole ordeal with the adoption issues. 

After last spring, they got another call. The lady from the adoption agency told them that someone has been looking at their file and is very interested in giving the baby to Harry and Louis. They met the pregnant woman over dinner in a very nice restaurant, they talked and everything went smoothly. 

The pregnant woman told Louis and Harry everything about the baby’s father and gave them the ultrasound picture. The hazy black and white picture where they saw the baby, their little child. They framed it in the baby’s room. 

She told them why she couldn’t keep the baby. She was going to start university after the baby would be born. She wouldn’t have time to bring up a child in her life. The young woman said she’d be very confident giving the child to Harry and Louis. 

 

Then the lady from the adoption agency called a couple of weeks later. Everything was good, it was a late August evening. The sun was setting. Harry had bought ice cream. Mint and chocolate chip. Louis can remember the ice cream tasting so good and refreshing after a warm day. 

Harry suggested a trip to Rome before the baby would arrive. They started to plan the trip, searching for good hotels and places to go and nice restaurants. Everything was almost set. Harry was laughing and pressing against Louis, peppering kisses along his jaw. 

 

The phone rang, and it was the adoption lady. She said that the young woman had had a miscarriage. She had picked Harry and Louis to be the parents, but she had slipped in the shower, dislocating her shoulder. In the hospital the doctor had checked if the baby was okay. He couldn’t find a heartbeat. The woman was already six months long. She had to deliver a dead baby. 

Louis and Harry visited the woman in the hospital. She looked tired and small in the hospital bed. Someone had brought her lilies and a small teddy bear that was holding a heart. Harry had chosen her white roses, a large bouquet of 30 roses set next to her bed. It seemed like the flowers were dying already. 

She told them how sorry she was. That she should’ve been more careful in the shower. If she hadn’t been so careless the baby would’ve still been alive. And Louis would be a father now. Harry would be a father. But the baby wasn’t alive. And neither of them was going to be a father. They had already picked out names for the baby. And it all came crashing down. 

 

The dreams about babies turned darker. Harry became darker; he lost the stars from his eyes. Louis can still remember when he was driving home after they had met the woman. Harry was silent, his fingers had found a rose petal from his seat. 

He was staring out the window, his quiet tears never stopping. He didn’t talk or do anything, he just was. Louis could see how Harry’s dreams were crushed, how he was being eaten alive. 

 

Harry had slept in the baby’s room that night. He slept on the soft carpet, his body shivering as he thought what it could’ve been like. What it could’ve been like when the baby slept in the crib. What it could’ve been like when the baby would’ve woken up in the middle of the night and him or Louis would’ve come to sing the baby back to sleep. 

Or how the baby would’ve taken its first steps. Or said its first words. Or had play dates with other kids from nursery. Or started school. Or how the child would’ve asked help with homework. It’s a dream that doesn’t seem to come true. 

 

Louis went to sleep next to Harry that night. Harry was just lying there on the carpet, with his shivering limbs and crying eyes. 

“I didn’t realize it before. But now I do. The baby is dead, Louis. Our baby is dead,” Harry had whispered. His whole body shook as the realisation hit him. He cried harder. Louis held him and tried to keep himself together. He was sharing the same dream with Harry and they had woken up. 

 

After that night, nothing was the same. They were both tired, they were both mourning something that they had never even touched. Harry rarely smiled, Louis rarely talked if it wasn’t necessary. They had lost themselves in some weird place that didn’t have lights. The place was like a maze, it was hard to get out of. There was silent touches, tears and whispers. They held on to each other so tightly that it hurt, they kept each other together. 

But they still thought that they’d try. This can happen, they could be on that waiting list for many years. But they still decided to stay on that list, they want to be parents. They just couldn’t face another loss like this again. 

 

“Ah, you’re here! I thought you’d be home later.” Harry strolls in from the kitchen, a bowl of colourful salad in his hands. He is dressed in a fancy black shirt, his tattoos out. His hair looks freshly cut. Has he been out today? 

“What’s this?” Louis chuckles, looking at the salad. Harry walks back into the kitchen and then into the dining room, carrying two bottles of white wine in his hands. 

“I wanted to make you some food.” Harry smiles gently, testing the waters. 

He pulls Louis a chair from under the table, motioning for Louis to come and sit. Louis looks at Harry, his eyes blinking a few times. He sits on the chair, Harry pushes Louis closer to the table. Then he’s gone again. Louis inspects the wine bottles, reading the labels and trying to decide which would be better. 

 

Harry carries a bowl of mashed potatoes and a dish of chicken on to the table. Louis feels almost proud how well Harry has done the food. The parma ham is wrapped around the chickens delicately, the mozzarella oozing out between the chicken fillets. 

“Awww.” Louis coos and tilts his head towards Harry. He smiles, as Harry looks at the food hungrily. He sits down next to Louis, pouring him some wine. 

“We haven’t eaten this in a while so I thought that I’d make it,” Harry says quietly. He seems like there’d be something really wrong or then something has happened. 

 

“You got a haircut?” Louis asks, eyeing Harry’s hair. It’s a bit shorter, the top still longer than the rest of his curls. He looks really good, a little younger even. 

“Yeah, I wanted to clean it up a bit,” Harry says and puts food on Louis’ plate. 

Harry’s hair was getting a bit long. The curls had started to show on the sides again, they were covering his ears a little. Now his hair is short, not a single stray hair out of place. 

Harry places Louis’ plate in front of him. Louis eyes the steaming food, it looks so good. He’s so hungry too. He hadn’t eaten anything with Liam when they were writing songs. They were too into the writing part that they didn’t even notice if they were hungry. 

 

“Harry?” Louis asks gently, searching for his eyes. Harry takes a deep breath as he sets his plate in front of himself. He takes a sip of his wine and turns towards Louis. His knees push against Louis’ leg, his fingers softly finding Louis’ thigh. 

“I wanted us to have something special. After… everything that has happened, we need to get back on our feet again. It’s Christmas soon and I thought if we could go around to our families and spend time with them? And then we could go on that trip to Rome to celebrate your birthday?” Harry suggests. Louis can sense how nervous Harry is. But he doesn’t really know why. 

“Has something happened?” Louis asks. 

“Uhh, why?” 

“No, this is all sweet. But like… why?” Louis really starts to think that something is happening. What if Harry wants to get out of this marriage? What if he’s too tired? Has Louis done something? Has Harry done something he regrets? His face must tell Harry a lot, because a calm smile appears on to the curly one’s lips.

 

“After we lost the baby.” Harry takes a deep breath in, his gaze falling to his hands. 

“After that, we haven’t been alright. This all has been just too much. And I understand it. But I’ve been thinking, and this is just a suggestion.” Harry frantically goes on. His mouth produces words so quickly that they mix together. 

“You want to stop the adoption process?” Louis doesn’t know what to feel. 

“No! No! No, that’s not what I was going to say. I’ve been just wondering if we should just try and live our life, no matter what happens. If we get a baby, then we will and it will all be good. But if we don’t get a baby… then we’ll be fine too. And we’ll be ready for setbacks and other complications in this whole thing. But now that it’s still just you and me, we could just live. And try to have fun for a bit?” Harry’s voice shivers. 

He is so insecure of his words. He speaks with a quiet voice. He tries so hard to come up with the right things to say. Louis’ face melts in to a warm smile. He turns his body towards Harry’s, their legs slotting together. 

“You’re right. It’s been hard and I want to breathe for a moment. Of course we could get disappointed again, but maybe we just need to have some time for ourselves. We haven’t heard from the agency for over two months and it could well be another month when we hear from them. Maybe even a year. But you’re right. We need to have some fun, we need to live.” 

 

“Do you think it’s wrong if we do this? If we aren’t wrapped around the adoption all the time?” Harry asks, his eyes shading with sadness. 

“No, I don’t think so. There are so many couples out there who are going through the same as us. And they are trying to live despite the stress and disappointment.” Harry hums at Louis’ words. 

 

It feels like a long time since Harry has breathed. Almost two years, they’ve been trying to adopt a baby. It has felt like universe fighting against them. Maybe the universe is trying to tell them that they aren’t going to be good parents or that a child would be too much for them. For a moment Harry believed it. For a moment Harry lived the life, where his head was telling him the truth with the lies. 

Now, he has realised that he hasn’t been here with Louis. He has been somewhere else with his thoughts and he forgot Louis. He has to keep on living his life to the fullest, with or without a baby. And he has Louis by his side. That’s wonderful as it is. 

 

“I love you, you know that. We are our own little family, we don’t need a baby to prove that. We just need to be patient,” Harry tells Louis. 

He is the sound of reason. Louis has been the one telling them to be patient. But when Harry says it, he actually believes it. They just have to be patient. 

Louis leans himself against Harry’s chest, his ear pressed against Harry’s heart. He listens to the slow beating, his eyes closing and breathing in the same rhythm as Harry. He feels Harry’s arms wrapping around him, Harry’s head against Louis’. 

This is the safest Louis could ever feel, he feels whole in Harry’s arms. He could never feel this way in anyone else’s arms.

“I love you,” Louis whispers into Harry’s chest. He hears Harry’s heart leap, and it makes Louis smile. Harry presses a kiss in to Louis’ hair, his heart beating for Louis. 

 

The candles burn with a steady flame. For the first time Harry opens up about his thoughts, what he has been thinking. Louis wants to hear everything. Harry has been so silent these past few months. Harry listens when Louis talks, how this has all affected him. Everything is out in the open, the liberating feeling of being able to talk flowing in the room. 

Harry’s food tastes heavenly. Why did they ever stop making food, it’s a mystery. But Harry really knows how to cook. If he wasn’t a singer, Louis is sure he’d make it as a chef. 

 

“I also got us some dessert,” Harry informs, when the plates have been emptied and the leftover food is getting colder. 

“Dessert?” Louis smiles widely, the wine making him giggly. Harry grins, his feet leading him in to the kitchen. Louis closes his eyes as he waits for the dessert. He feels warm and happy. 

“Tadaaa!” Louis hears Harry singsong quietly. Harry carries a cake in his hands, placing it between them. It’s not a huge cake, Harry and Louis can finish it during the evening. But it looks really familiar. 

 

“This is our wedding cake?” Louis’ eyes glint, his finger dipping in the chocolate frosting. 

“Yeah, I walked past the patisserie today and saw they had our wedding cake in these mini sizes. I just couldn’t resist buying one.” Harry smiles. Louis looks at him a bit more closely, seeing the stars in Harry’s eyes glowing again. 

“What?” Harry smiles. 

“You just look really beautiful.” Louis says. 

His hand raises to stroke Harry’s cheek. Louis actually feels like he’s on a date with Harry, like they aren’t married, like they haven’t been together for years already. And it’s not like they wouldn’t have had date nights after they got married. But this night just feels different in some unexplainable way. 

 

The cake is just as delicious as it was at their wedding. Harry starts reminiscing the day. 

“I actually don’t even remember much. It’s just one big blurry day in my life,” Harry says with his eyes wide, his mouth half full of cake. 

“I know. I can’t even remember what we had for dinner that evening,” Louis agrees, stuffing more cake in to his mouth. 

“I think it was fish, and then something else?” Harry looks like he’d be thinking about the meaning of life while trying to remember their wedding dinner. 

“Salmon maybe?” 

“Hmmm. Maybe we need to watch the wedding film?” Harry asks, his eyes lighting up. 

“Yes! Let’s watch it tonight. Let’s watch it now! And eat the rest of the cake in the living room.” Harry nods vigorously. 

They both burst out laughing like they were a couple of young little boys excited to eat a cake, just the two of them. And they’d be home alone for the first time. Just the two of them. 

 

Louis phone starts to ring in his jeans pocket, breaking the moment. 

“Don’t answer, please.” Harry pouts. 

“It could be Liam, he said he’d call me tonight after he’s figured out a chorus in to a song.” Louis frowns at his phone. Why now, Liam? 

“You go and set everything up in the living room. I’ll be quick and then we can continue our date.” Louis smiles apologetically. 

“Our date. Grrrr. Can I take my date to bed at the end of this evening?” Harry smirks, his brow lifting in suggestion. 

“I’d never say no to a date with my husband.” Louis bites the air. Harry giggles, kissing the corner of Louis’ mouth. 

“Be quick.” Harry smiles, taking the cake with him in to the living room.

He can hear Louis answering the phone, his voice a bit high. Harry smirks to himself. He takes a bite out of the cake, still half of it left. He sets it on the coffee table as he looks for the wedding DVD. 

He finds it easily, it’s right next their favourite films such as Titanic and The Notebook. Harry can hear Louis agreeing to something, maybe Liam had a great idea for a chorus. 

 

“Harry?” Louis’ voice comes closer. 

“Yeah!” Harry kneels in front of the TV, placing the DVD into the player. 

“I just got a call from the adoption agency.” Louis comes into the living room. Harry turns to him, seeing Louis’ shocked face. Tears roll from his eyes, his mouth open. 

“Well what did they say then? Are they kicking us off the list?” Harry chuckles, a bit afraid to hear the answer to that. 

 

“We’re having a baby,” Louis cries, his face crumbling in to a mix of crying and smiling. 

“What?” Harry swears his heart stops right at that second. 

“There’s a baby for us. We are going to have him in two weeks.” Louis walks to Harry, his arms engulfing Harry in a tight hug. Harry can’t understand any of it. A baby? They are having a baby? 

“Him?” Harry mutters, his hands finally answering to Louis’ hug. 

“It’s a boy?” Harry asks, his head catching up. He crumbles in Louis’ arms, his legs giving up. Louis sits them on the floor, holding Harry together. 

“We’re getting a boy?” Harry whimpers. Louis smiles through his tears and nods. 

 

“Is it really happening? No one’s going to take this away from us?” Harry hiccups. 

“No, the baby was born yesterday. The mother decided today. We’re getting a baby, Harry!” Louis laughs, not able to contain his joy anymore. Harry’s heart hammers in his chest, his brain doing flips. 

He doesn’t know how to react, he doesn’t how he is feeling. He is extremely happy. And at the same time so overwhelmed. And something else, something much more special. 

Louis laughs so loud, his voice bubbling like Harry has never heard it. Harry grabs Louis’ face between his palms and attacks his lips. Louis keeps laughing, infecting Harry with the same laughter. They kiss and they laugh and cry. 

Harry had imagined what it would be like to get that call. What it would feel like. What it would be like to know that he is going to be a dad. Now he knows. And it’s million times better than he’d imagined. 

 

\- - - - 

 

“Say cheeeeese.” Louis smiles behind the camera. He is sitting on a purple blanket in the park, the summer sun shining and warming his skin. Harry sits opposite from him, smiling like he’d own the moon and the galaxies and the stars. 

He holds little Freddie in his arms, squishing his face against Freddie’s cheek. Freddie keeps giggling as Harry kisses his chubby little face. Louis catches the perfect picture of Freddie smiling with his eyes closed. Harry has his lips attached delicately against Freddie’s temple. Harry’s cheeks are pink, pure happiness radiating from him. 

If Louis looks at the picture closely, he can hear the eight month old’s light giggles through it. If he watches it closely, he can hear Harry’s heart beating for the little boy in his arms. 

 

Louis crawls closer towards his boys. Freddie instantly starts to reach his hand towards Louis. 

“Hello. Helloooo. Hi. Hey.” Louis baby talks, Harry watching on fondly. Freddie giggles, his few small teeth glinting in the sun. 

 

“There are people taking pictures of us.” Harry keeps on smiling, but let’s Louis know about the fans. 

“Yeah, I noticed them when they walked past us for the fourth time.” Louis tilts his head from side to side, covering his eyes from Freddie. The baby’s face turns from a smile in to a little pout, his eyes wide. 

“Peekaboo!” Louis’ high voice says, Freddie bursting out giggling once again. 

 

“Should we have a bit of banana?” Harry asks Freddie, who swiftly searches where the voice came from. The bay sees the spoonful of mashed banana and opens his mouth. 

“Good baby.” Harry says proudly. 

Louis strokes Freddie’s back and fixes his hat, the white crocheted headpiece protecting him from getting too much sun. Freddie’s brown eyes are so full of life, they search for the smallest of miracles. 

Harry feeds him the banana mash, but Freddie has already lost his interest. His hand is reaching for Louis again, this time to touch his face. Louis gets closer, his eyes crinkling when Freddie gets a hold of his nose. 

“What are you going to do with that?” Louis asks, Freddie’s hand grabbing Louis’ hair next. He pulls the strands, Louis letting out a cry. He laughs through the pain. Louis gently releases Freddie’s grasp from his hair, the baby holding on to Louis’ forefinger. 

“Maybe he is going to be a rock climber when he grows up. He has a good grip.” Harry says. Freddie wonders Harry’s voice, his bright eyes full of innocence. Harry brushes his nose against Freddie’s. The baby smiles. His little fingers find Harry’s long curls on top of his head, pulling tightly. 

“Ouch!” Harry squawks. Freddie only giggles, as Louis tries to free Harry. 

 

“Should we go? It’s getting late, it’d be good for our little rock climber to get some sleep. Yes, you’re our little rock climber with your chubby, strong hands.” Harry talks with different voices, Freddie’s eyes filled with pure excitement. 

“Yeah. Let’s go,” Louis agrees. He helps Harry by taking Freddie in to his arms. The baby bounces, like he’d be in a bouncy house. Louis nods his head in time with Freddie, laughing with the little baby. 

Harry collects the blanket and snacks in to a bag. The grass under their blanket is flat against the ground. Slowly it starts to rise towards the sun. 

 

Harry takes the camera from the bag, secretly snapping pictures of Louis and Freddie, as they walk a little ahead. Freddie leans his head against Louis’, his small fingers latching on to Louis’ hair in the back of his neck. 

“Look at this little guy.” Louis whispers, turning to Harry. Harry takes picture after picture, the sun light seeping through the lens as if Louis was a magical creature. 

“Come on, my unicorn,” Louis smiles softly. Harry puts the camera away and wraps his arm around Louis’ waist. 

“I love you and our little family more than anything,” Harry whispers in to Louis’ ear. The airy words tickle Louis’ skin. He smiles, leaning his head against Harry’s shoulder. 

“I love you,” Louis sighs, Harry turning his head to give a kiss on to Louis’ forehead. 

 

A young woman walks past them, smiling at the couple. She watches how tenderly Louis holds Freddie, how they walk forward slowly through the park without a care in the world. The summer belongs to the small family, like they’ve created it. 

Harry smiles at the woman, his eyes sparkling as if he’d have the brightest night sky in them. He sighs, looking back at Louis and Freddie, who sleeps against Louis’ shoulder. 

Harry has never been this happy. He always thought he already has it all. But then his life took a turn and showed that it could be even more magical. Louis looks up to Harry, his blue eyes reflecting the glint in Harry’s eyes. 

 

That is the purest love. The magical, unicorn filled, star power love. The love that came alive all those years ago. Somehow it shines now even brighter. It envelopes Louis and Harry in their little bubble. 

And now, they have someone in that bubble with them. Without a care in the world, Harry feels like he’s arrived home. A home, where he can be free. A home where his dreams come true. A home where he can love freely. 

At that moment, he realises he is never going to move out from that magical little home. This is his place, this is his future, his afterlife. And when he is long gone, when he is looking down on Freddie from somewhere far, far away with Louis, he will wish the same magical life for his son. For his own miracle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. The end. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, liked and reblogged the tumblr post about [this](http://alltheselittlewritings.tumblr.com/post/135866634365/once-in-a-lullaby-by-alltheselittlewritings). I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this. Posting this final chapter is somehow making me extremely nervous, I'm kind of sad to let go of this fic.  
> But new things are coming :)
> 
> Please leave kudos or a comment, I'll answer to everyone :) Or come talk with me on tumblr [sing-about-being-free](http://sing-about-being-free.tumblr.com/) (main) or  
> [AllTheseLittleWritings](http://alltheselittlewritings.tumblr.com/).  
> [Here](http://alltheselittlewritings.tumblr.com/post/137980528210/once-in-a-lullaby-playlist-rise-eddi-front) is the playlist for this fic :)

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment or kudos or come talk with me on Tumblr: [sing-about-being-free](http://sing-about-being-free.tumblr.com/) and  
> [AllTheseLittleWritings](http://alltheselittlewritings.tumblr.com/) :)


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